The Loneliness in the Woman
by Musiclover14
Summary: He left her, betraying the promise he had posed to her both through words and actions numerous times. His reasonings unknown and unmeaningful. Leaving her to nothing but questions, pain and the vain attempt to hold on to her facade of strength.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so this is a story I have nearly finished writing over these past few weeks. It is rather long, well over twenty chapters, and I am a bit uncertain of uploading this. These earlier chapters are not exactly intended for fan fiction and this first one did not even go to this story in the beginning. Of course it has been altered some to help it mesh better with the rest of the story. **

**As said previously this is not written for fan fiction. That means that I would appreciate if you would be so kind as to tell me whether this is something I should continue posting or not. Please keep in mind it was written a little while ago and is certainly nothing impressive. I do hope you can enjoy. Thank you for reading.**

Temperance Brennan spent a lot of time at her work. More time than most people would find healthy. For her, however, it was where her life was held. Granted the last few years had pushed her outside of the world of computers and bones and fellow scientists, but at the end of the day she was there again. It was like home to her. Which made sense since she spent more time there then in her apartment.

The platform was where she examined bodies, her eyes closely examining each bone for any anomaly. Limbo, or more accurately modular skeletal storage, was where she spent a great deal of time as well. She found it abnormally peaceful down there, as though she perhaps belonged amoungst the forgotten dead. Her office was her real sanctuary though, that was where she most belonged. It held any of the necessities for her to get by on for at least a good few days. She would sit at her computer and write or complete all of the endless paperwork. She could relax on the couch and read an anthropology journal or whatever else may spark her interest at the time. More often than not she would sleep and eat here. This was a place that belonged completely to her and her alone.

That was why she really wished people would stop pestering her on returning home. When she was good and ready she would go and others, especially certain others who were particularly persistent, should really just allow that. Tonight was no different though. As she stood face to face with her best and only friend of many years, Angela Montenegro.

Angela's eyes stared at Brennan with such determination and an extreme amount of worry, not that Temperance could ever detect such a thing through a look, that Angela pondered how the woman could ever refuse her pleas. She tried not to sound desperate as she asked for Brennan to go home, but eventually it was coming out as whiny and pleadful. "Sweetie, you're exhausted. Just go home for tonight, please?"

Temperance had no intention of backing down though. She did not want to leave so why should she? Besides how would Angela know if she were tired? Brennan was well aware of when she needed to succmb to the production of melatonin and rest and now was not it. "I'm fine, Angela. I will go home tonight, just not now," Temperance tried a bit of bargaining. Her friend sounded sincere in her concern for Brennan's well being so the least she could do is pretend she was going to comply, right? "I just still have some work to do is all. Cam sent over some papers for me to sign." It was not a lie either. Temperance Brennan did not lie, not unless she found logical reasoning in it. However it was paperwork she had quickly pushed aside to be done at a later time when her eyes weren't drawn to what they were for. Signing these papers meant more acceptance on what happened.

"You and I are both fully aware that you will not go home tonight unless I watch you leave and then follow you home and sit outside your apartment."

"Well that would not make any sense..." Temperance pondered off. Her brain quickly comprehending the large holes in Angela's logic but trying to get a slight grasp as to why she would say something to begin with. Damn Booth and making her think of such useless things. Damn Booth in a general aspect for that matter. "It would be much more logical for you to just come inside where you could sleep better."

"A sleepover!" Angela gasped, gladly taking the time to throw Brennan off and then taking full advantage of the opportunity. "What a great idea, Bren. I have some stuff in my car anyway so we don't even need to stop at my apartment." Quickly, Angela grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along, giving Temperance no time to process until she was half way out of her office. No doubt her reactions were shot as well, due to the fact that she had slept maybe ten hours at most in the last week.

"Angela, let me go!" Brennan yelled a little louder than necessary and ripped her arm from her friend's grasp. "I have already told you I am not going home. I do not want to, and so, I won't."

Angela took a deep breath ready for another round. She was fully prepared for the fight that would be put up and Brennan could only go on for so long. "Bren, we're going home and you are going to eat an actual meal and go to bed. Now, your place or mine?" It was times like these she wished that Booth was here to help. Although if not for him none of this would have occured in the first place. She was still extremely pissed for what he had done. Probably would be for about oh, ever. When you cross Angela Montenegro you are in her black book for life.

"I do not want to go. Not now, not later and not with you!" Brennan was well aware that she sounded like a melodramatic adolescent arguing with her parental guardians, but, at that moment, she did not care. She just wanted to go back to her office and work. She would work a lot, until she was so tired she could lean back in her chair and close her eyes and dream of absolutely nothing. That was when she would consider going home. She expected Angela to get upset now, after all she was very emotionally charged, but apparently tonight she had decided that she was prepared for the cruelty Brennan would inflict upon her if she continued to pester.

"Please, Bren?" Here came that pathetic begging again. Angela was not ashamed to ask for things or use her manners but right now she sounded truly desperate, which she was she supposed. "Just for tonight. Let's go back to one of our places and eat something organic and healthy, just as you like it, and then you can sleep just until work tomorrow morning. Which is in only six hours, let me remind you. It would not be for long at all." Angela stopped and held her breath as Temperance contemplated. As her face contorted in such a way to suggest she would refuse the offer Angela opened her mouth with the rebuttle before the next argument could even be made. "Plus if you eat something and sleep a little you will be able to focus on your work and finish it more effieciently."

Using her own logic against her, that just was not right. "Fine, Angela but tonight and tonight only."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed throwing her arms around her best friend despite how ridiculous it was that her reasoning for such gratefulness was that her friend would go home and eat and sleep. It never should have come to this in the first place.

"There will be absolutely no emotional prodding or idle conversation leading up to you trying to get me to admit something or any such ridiculous activities. If you cannot accomodate to these terms I can very easily break our conditions as well."

"Did you just threaten to sneak out, Bren?" Angela questions somewhat increduously as Brennan turns back to her office and gathers her belongings in a few swift movements.

"No," she defuses quickly although she was aware of the fact that that was exactly what she had just done. "Of course not." Temperance slings her bag on her shoulder and lifts her coat but simply does not bother putting it on.

They begin to make their way towards the exit. The artist staying uncharacteristically silent, not that her friend was about to complain. They nod to the security guard as the walk past and he silently nods back, giving them a sympathetic glance. Something that really irks Temperance, angers her to a point of wanting to turn around and put him in his spot. She does not though, instead she just continues the silent and short journey. Suddenly, just before they reach the front door, Angela ceases her movements and Temperance follows suit. "Ange?" she asks as she turns to look at her friend. She had been so excited to get out of the building so why stop now?

"You need to put your coat on," she voices. _Booth would make her do it, and I may hate him but he made me promise. _Angela was not going to back out on a promise, especially since she understood the motivation behind it. How could she deny such a thing?

"Excuse me?" Brennan questions at the odd demand. This was not something Angela would commonly push her on. Of course Angela looked out for her well being, as much as she could that is, but not usually to this extent. This is something she would indubiously expect from..."Don't," Brennan warns. Her voice icy cold with a demand that she was sure came across clear as air

"Just put it on," she says again. She wants to cry when she sees Brennan's face. Wants to cry and then punch a certain FBI agent's lights out. "I need you to."

"How could you need me to put my coat on? That is not possible."

"Sweetie, can you not question me and put it on? You would put it on for-"

"Stop," she says and drops her bag with a loud thud before sliding her arms into her winter coat. Letting the extra heat warm her before she had to step out into the cold and bitter winter. The air was harsh and the wind caused it to be harsher. Considering it was nearly March Brennan held a hope that spring would present itself soon. "Now can we please go?"

"Thank you," Angela whispers as she passes by Brennan on her way outside.

Temperance has nothing to say but a sigh, one of which quickly transforms into a yawn. Is that all it took now? To make her do something? Threaten to bring up his name? She hated him. More than anything or anyone she had hated before. Well maybe not. Epps had been on hell of a rat bastard and the Gravedigger, that woman sure had sparked up a lot of hate in Brennan. This was worse though, she decided. They were the villans, she was supposed to hate them. Booth, he was the hero. Or at least so she had once thought.

* * *

"I hope you have food here, Bren, because I am starved," Angela calls as she disappears into the kitchen. Right now she really was hungry but wanted the food much more so for Brennan than herself. She had had dinner a while ago. Angela would not be surprised if the most Brennan had had today was water. Angela blamed herself for this. She needed to take care of Brennan right now, as much as she would allow at least. That was why today she had told Wendell that whatever they may have had was over.

Brennan and Angela had drifted apart a lot over the last few years but the last few months had been the most drastic. The most productful conversation was Angela seemingly guilt tripping her into giving her money. Yet Brennan was somehow at fault for it. She had been awful these past couple months. She should have been there for her friend much more than she had been and not to mention clearly needed to remember that Brennan was Brennan and that meant that Angela had to have patience and be understanding. She understood the fascinating Temperance Brennan's mind quite well but she had lost her compassion and desire for it all. She had carelessly passed all of those responisibilities on to Booth and that was not fair. Not to Booth or Brennan and not, the most of all, to herself.

She loved Brennan, without a doubt. She was her best friend and her family as well. She was a social person, always had many friends that she could call up to go out with and have a good time, but Brennan was the most special and important of them all. Hence the word best in best friends she supposed. Brennan did not understand caring and that was why Angela had to be there constantly projecting all of that love and care on to Bren until she figured it out a little. Leave it to Booth to teach her the most and then just bail on it all.

"I think I may have something for a salad in there," Temperance calls back. Fairly certain that Angela would not find anything more than a half rotted tomatoe and some lettuce in there. At this point she did not care much. In fact she would gladly welcome Angela having to take an impromtu trip to the grocery store. She needed time to collect herself and find the most effective way to deal with the current situation. For instance wouldn't it be easy to just lay down on the couch and close her eyes and pretend to sleep? Surely Angela would not wake her from her fake slumber considering that she was deeply concerned with Temperance's lack of sleep. Something that even she herself had to admit was very obvious from the dark circles under her eyes.

"Do you mean for a salad for humans or rabbits because there is nothing in that refridgerator to compose a decent meal," Angela loudly states as she enters the living room. Staring down at a clearly exhausted and worn Brennan.

"Look, Ange, can I just sleep now and eat once I have woken? I am really starting to feel the affects of the past couple weeks." It was not a lie, once again. It was a truth she had not wanted to reveal, but it had been for about ten days that she believed she was at a point of true exhaustion. She may as well use it for something beneficial.

Angela unmeaningly sent her a pitying glance. "Sure, Bren. Do you need anything?"

Brennan fought the desire to snap and responded in the most pleasent way she could. "I am fine, Angela. I just want to rest." And with that she stood and walked down the hallway to her room. She found pajamas unecessary and simply stripped down to her underwear and climbed under the covers. She wanted to sleep but at the same time it was as though her mind could not stop fighting it. Trying to ward off any sense of rest. She hated this feeling. When you were so tired that you stopped fully feeling the effects of your exhaustion.

What happened next was worse than just laying awake trying to fall asleep but failing. Worse than the feeling of utter exhaustion. This was when she began to do exactly she had been fighting for two weeks, the exact thing she had compartmentalized away. Now here she lay, analyzing every single possible detail. She really should have stayed at the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

**So I have received a few comments asking me to continue along with quite a few story alerts so I suppose I will keep uploading for now. Once again, this is nothing spectacular. I do hope you like it. Oh, and if any of you really care I will most likely upload these every other day around nine or ten at night EST. What's that? You don't care? Okay, you can read now...If you haven't just skipped this all.**

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Two hours, two hours she had lain there. Her poor body desperately wanting to sleep, but her mind continued to reel. Constantly going in some seemingly evil and convoluted manner. As though she was being punished, as though having such a brilliant mind came with a price. That being so deeply logical could not happen without this consequence attached. This is why she had not wanted to go home, this is why she had wanted to stay and work. Because even though she may be laying down in prime conditions to rest this was much more exhausting than being in her office, doing her job, or simply just doing something. Laying here like she was in this awful silence, this was purely torture.

She cursed Angela for the tenacious demands of her retreating to home. Angela loved her, but no matter how hard her dear friend may try she would never be able to comprehend just how hard this was for her. Not just what had happened, that she would move past, but this useless feeling of just laying there, her own brain betraying her with its constant thought and torturous process.

God, she wanted to sleep. She just wanted to rest, no dreams, no feelings, no laying awake far beyond any semblance of a decent hour. She just wanted to sleep in peace and solitude for a few hours. Was it so rapacious for her to want that? She was human, granted above most of the average human race but still human, and every human needed the basic necessities to survive. Proper nutrition, appropriate amount of human interaction, a basic level of happiness and contentment and,of course, sleep. Had any of those been sufficiently supplied in the last week? When was the last time she had a real meal? When did she last smile or laugh? What other conversations had she had aside from arguing with Angela? When did she last get more than twenty minutes of fitful and restless sleep? Shouldn't her body be feeling these effects and slowly shutting down? Shouldn't she feel the requirements in such an unpleasant manner until they had been filled? Why was she still functioning? Moving? Breathing? Living?

She was not a desperate woman. Never one to submit to the pain and suffering of the world. Never one to simply give up. She was a fighter. That was well known by any and all who knew her. So why now was she feeling so helpless? So much like laying down and either having someone come save her or simply die? Why now? She wouldn't, after all the fighter side of her would always be there, never to fully surrender. Still it was as though the human side of her was begging to be able to shut down, the weak part of her, the side no one would ever see. No one else, to be technical.

She was pathetic, simply pathetic. How weak and fragile she was at this very moment, as she had been since the moment he left. She stayed strong on the outside, as strong as she could manage at least. She could not allow that part of her to crumble or she would simply be too ashamed to return to work. She was trying to lie to herself, try and pretend she was compartmentalizing and that she had not changed at all. But Temperance Brennan was an awful liar, she could not even convince herself of this one. She was pathetic, and she hated herself for this weakness.

* * *

Guilt, that just about summed up Angela's feelings over her awful behavior for the last few months, years even. What happened to her that she had abandoned her and Brennan's relationship the way she had? What had turned her into this terrible and careless friend? How could she even consider herself a friend at all! She was so busy focusing on her problems with Hodgins, dating, marrying, finding the man she needed to divorce before she could marry and then finally the break up. Next she moved on to Roxy, then her kick in celibacy which ended with Wendell. Wendell of all people! Had she not learned her lesson the first time around with awkward situations in the workplace post-break up?

She had been caught up in nothing but herself. Her problems, her needs, her wants, that she forgot to see anything else. Hodgins' agony, Brennan's need for a little girl talk, Booth's hardships, she was too busy being selfish that she missed it all. Messed up on it all. So sitting in Brennan's apartment building at two in the morning was the beginning of how she would begin to rectify herself, to make herself worthy of the friends she had. They certainly deserved that much. Everyone made mistakes, everyone messed up once in awhile, she had done it repeatedly, but now she would make it right. Fix what she could and apologize for what she couldn't.

Even now she had felt as though she had let Brennan down again. It had been thirteen days already. Thirteen days and clearly her friend had not eaten or slept in any form of what was appropriate. What had taken her so long to make sure that Brennan got what she needed? To force her into receiving the proper care necessary for survival?

The effects of the late hour began to make themselves known to Angela as she suddenly felt her eye lids become much heavier than they had been before when she was focused on taking care of everything. She would not get much sleep if she dosed off now but it was better than none, wasn't it? She pulled herself off of the couch and walked over to Brennan's room, peeking her head in the door to be sure that her friend was resting peacefully and not doing something stupid like writing or paperwork. Satisfied with the sight of a motionless lump Angela happily went and fell back against the couch, closing her eyes and drifting quickly into a slumber.

* * *

Morning came to quickly for some whereas the night had seemingly dragged on for days for others. Temperance gratefully set her feet upon the floor, making sure she was steady before allowing her legs the full weight of her body. She had slept last night, perhaps a whole hour of it. The rest of the night was fitful and had caused her to feel even worse than when she had before.

She had already made up her mind over telling Angela on how she had slept. As soon as her friend had checked on her at two in the morning last night Temperance knew that there was certainly no other option. The very least she could do was offer her friend the deceiving reassurance that she had finally slept.

She tried to keep her routine, stick to things as normal for the morning. That started with a shower. Only this morning it would be with scolding, yet somehow calming, water. It burned her skin, made it ache with pain, yet it was such a releasing feeling as it ran down her back and cascaded from her legs down the drain. She stayed in a little longer than usual, enveloping the reinvigorating feelings it brought. All too soon she stepped out and continued on her methodical pattern.

Clothes, makeup, hair, preparations that she did not necessarily believe in and yet followed through with the cultural expectancies every day. Next was breakfast, normally she would either simply skip or, on the days Booth picked her up, she would go to the diner. However, Temperance held much more than just common knowledge, and it would not even take that much to know that Angela would insist on her eating. Brennan knew that for Angela's sake she would have to keep up the facade to the best of her ability. Look appropriate, eat normally, appear to go home at a decent hour each night. She would have to put effort into these things. Not only for Angela, but also for her own sanity. Temperance did not think she would be able to handle any more interventions from Angela. She means well, as Angela really did just love Brennan and wanted to make sure she was cared for, but all of her pushing and insistence were really just making things worse. Despite how well her dear friend may mean.

Obviously the fridge had not managed to miraculously restock over night so that would either mean an early morning trip to the grocery store or going out to get breakfast. Temperance took one look at Angela, who was dead asleep on the sofa, and made her conclusion much easier to draw. Not to mention she did not quite feel...Up to going the diner quite yet. She wasn't ready for the place with french fries and pie or with Brainy Smurf and conversations on making love. Although it may be foolish she was simply not yet comfortable returning to the place that reminded her of him. Of them, of what they had.

She pulled herself from her thoughts and set out on her task, focusing instead on the items she would purchase. A quick note was scribbled down in haste and then she grabbed her coat before silently slipping out the door.

* * *

She wasn't sure if it was the sizzle of the frying pan or the fact that she most certainly was not sleeping on the world's most comfortable couch. What ever the reason may be Angela was happy to see her friend not only looked better but was also preparing a meal without previous coaxing.

"Oh," Brennan says when she walks in to the living room to discover that Angela now alert and sitting up. "I suppose coming to wake you up will not be necessary. I made omelets. I even added the hot sauce that you enjoy into your's."

"Thanks, Bren," but even Angela is not certain if she is saying thank you for the omelet or for the fact that Brennan appeared to be putting in at least a slight amount effort into caring for herself.

"Well to not prepare anything for you when you are my guest and I am making something for myself would be rude and not very logical either."

"You're welcome would have worked just fine, Sweetie," Angela says, a soft smile brimming on to her lips.

"Oh," Temperance says and appears to contemplate the notion for a moment before adding anything more. "You're welcome then. It is ready now. I made tea as well." And with that Temperance turns and walks back into the kitchen.

Angela stands, stretching her limbs and releasing a yawn. Four hours of sleep may work for Brennan, but Angela was most definitely more of a solid eight hours a night kind of person. She follows after Brennan into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table, waiting quietly for the food or for Temperance to initiate conversation.

Brennan considers asking how Angela slept, but that would just lead to the very same question being directed at herself, and that was something she would like to avoid, if at all possible. So instead she simply places the omelet and tea in front of Angela silently. Next placing the cream and sugar on there and then finally her own food.

They eat in silence at first. Only the clanging of forks and knives and the quiet sounds of chewing. Temperance was comfortable with silence, grateful for it, in fact. However Angela was worried over what she should say if anything at all. Perhaps the quiet would be best, but at the same time she wondered if maybe Bren needed something to distract her. Then there was always her own curiosity. The side that wanted to know how she was doing, how well she slept, so on and so forth. They ate quietly though. That was the best.

Temperance more so picks at her food than eats it, however she does her best to placate Angela. Eating the amount she could stomach and then moving on to cleaning up.

Angela sits quietly at the table, knowing Brennan would rather clean the dishes herself. First twirling some of her tangled and mussed hair but then moving on to creating more of a conversation. "Would you like to go to the diner for lunch?"

"I have too much work to do," Brennan responds immediately. Not necessarily true but to her it was. "However," she begins, knowing what she needed to say in order to keep Angela at bay. "I suppose dinner somewhere would be good. I was thinking that perhaps you and I could try a new Chinese place that opened up."

Angela's face brightens at the idea. "Sounds great," she chirps, standing from her seat looking not only happier but more focused than she had in days. "Say around seven?"

"Great." No, no it wasn't. But it would have to be. This is what her Angela used to do all the time. Go out to dinner and have "girl talk." Brennan may not care for it, but she did enjoy the company of her friend. It might just be okay. It was not as though her entire life had to change. She was still her, still Dr. Temperance Brennan. Only now she knew how good it felt to be someone else, someone less guarded and in control. Someone called Bones.

"Alright, Sweetie," Angela begins to collect her things and give Brennan a light hug. "I will see you at work in an hour." She disappears to behind the door. "If I'm late," Angela says poking her head back in for a moment, "Make an excuse to Cam for me."

"Sure thing," Temperance murmurs, most likely a reply that had gone completely unnoticed. She sighed, plopping herself onto the couch. Her eyes slipped shut as her head leaned back. There were many memories that this couch had, the whole apartment actually. Ones of Thai food and paper work. Quiet words exchanged late at night or loud laughter and singing. What good were memories though? It would be much better if she just forgot him, forgot everything of which they had and carried on with her life.

Compartmentalizing, she reminded herself. She needed to get gas before going to work, call her publisher to set up her next mandatory book signing and finish identifying body #14358. That is what needed to be done now. Not waste her time moping and feeling sorry for herself. Her feelings were not important when so many important things needed to be accomplished first. Feelings were not important at all, not for Dr. Temperance Brennan anyhow, and that is who she is. Who she would always be.

"Dr. Brennan," Cam says upon the arrival of her coworker and friend, well she thought they were friends at least. Not the easiest thing to tell when it came to this woman. "You're early."

"Yes," Brennan fails to see why her boss was pointing out the obvious. It seemed highly unnecessary. "I am well aware."

"Do you...Need anything?" Cam was unsure as to how to react through this all. As it was she had a teenager to keep out of trouble and a whole group of entirely independent and complete troublemakers for scientists to keep an eye on. It did not leave her a lot of time to try and figure this situation out. And what figuring out she did was not related to being sure she was treating Dr. Brennan the best way. Most of it went to just trying to grasp the general concept, some sort of basic understanding.

"If I did I am sure I would be resourceful enough in order to obtain it myself."

"Of course, of course." They stood awkwardly for a minute, Brennan turning and looking to her office more than once. She looked uncomfortable standing there, winter coat still on and arms crossed at her chest. "Nigel-Murray!" Cam exclaims, more enthusiastic than any person should ever sound over the impending paper work of another.

"Is my grad-student..." Temperance says slowly and with a tone of which seemed to be questioning if her boss was of sound mind at the moment.

"He left something for you on your desk. Something to do with his dissertation."

"I will take a look," Brennan says, gratefully turning and walking towards her office. She gently slips inside, letting out a sigh of relief. Relief from what? That she was unsure, but clearly things were going to be tense around the lab for a little while. Or at least if what happened moments before was any indicator then they certainly would be. She may as well brace herself now.

She began dumping her bags down and then removing her coat, fixing her things just as she needed them and then settling into her office chair. Paper work, paper work is what needed to be taken care of. She would take care of it, with all of her focus zeroed in on the papers before her. That is how she worked, that is how the work deserved to be done.

"Dr. Brennan," she hears just as she begins. The door to her office swings open with eager anticipation.

"Yes, Dr. Hodgins?" For his sake she hoped this was work related. Another awkward conversation was certainly not on her agenda today. One was plenty enough already.

"I have the results on the test you had me run on the particulates found in body number..." He stops, glancing down at the file in his hand.

"14358," she fills in for him.

"Yeah, that guy."

"And?" she did not understand why people would stop talking when they knew exactly what the other was waiting for. She did not know if it was distraction or for forgetfulness. For all she knew it could simply be because they wanted someone to ask them. Never having experienced it herself she guessed that she just may never know.

"Oh, yeah, I got nothing," he states plainly, sounding slightly disappointed. "All of your usual stuff, common soil, gum, fecal matter from dogs, and some bug guts. Not the good kind either, just a common house fly. Not the most exciting samples I've had."

"Thank you, Dr. Hodgins," she says, unsure if he was done and not particularly caring either way. His personal opinions on what they found were hardly relevant.

"Sure thing." He seemed to stall in her doorway, but seemed to be more aware than others at the Jeffersonian to simply leave her alone. That was all she really asked for. To be left alone. So she could focus, on work. Solely focused on her work. Not Booth, she would not think of him. Not when people were around her or when she was by herself. She would not think of him. Not of his smile, or his scent or the way he talked to her. Damn it. She thought of him.

**Oh and just a note that I am not hating on Angela. (Is that the correct terminology?) I really loved her character and the dynamic she brought to the show...Until they turned her character into complete and utter crap mid-season four. Everytime one of them says they are best friends I cannot help but think how that is even possible. So, no offense to those who love her as I do to...Only not so much in the show right. I'll see you all Wednesday.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, thank you all once again for the reviews and story alerts/favorites. I really do not have much to say...I hope you enjoy the chapter seems fitting. Oh, and I know a lot of you are confused for the time being but please, bear with me. Answers will be coming soon...ish.**

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They say silently across from each other, only the quiet scrapes of silverware on plates being heard. To say that things were awkward between the two of them would be a bit of an understatement. Angela had so much she wanted to ask, but felt the need to withhold from doing so. Where as Temperance did not want to be there in the first place. She was not the type to talk things out. She never had been, now was no different. She had considered bringing note cards with her to dinner but ruled that out as being childish and unnecessary. Now she was thoroughly regretting the decision she had made.

"How is Wendell?" Temperance asked quietly, ruling it as both polite and a reasonable question for one friend to ask another.

"We stopped seeing each other," Angela replies simply. The fact that they had ended did not particularly bother her. They did not have much more than a sexual attraction between the two of them. Something that should be plenty for her but was now suddenly becoming so much less than what she really wanted. No matter though, she stuck by the choice she made. Brennan needed her, this was right.

"Oh." And that seemingly ended the conversation. Temperance being...Well, herself did not easily carry on conversation. Sure, she could spout out something educational or fill Angela in on a fascinating anthropology study that was going on in the Middle East, but she found that that would not help very much.

"Sweetie," Angela starts, her tone being sympathetic and filled with worry. It was as though she was giving a warning as to what was to come. The uncomfortable question she had every intention of now asking. "How are you doing?" There, that was simple and mundane. Obviously it had an undertone to it but overall how much could it hurt her friend?

"I am fine." Was Angela honestly trying to have this conversation? Brennan knew where this would lead to, and it was territory she was not comfortable with. Not at all.

"Bren, c'mon. Just this once tell me the truth?" Begging, pleading, it wasn't right, not how it should be between them. Yet here they were. Angela felt as though she had practically trapped her, even though Brennan had the option to get up and walk away. Angela did not think she would. Temperance Brennan was not one to commonly flee.

"I don't lie. You know that, Angela." That was a lie. So now she was lying about lying? "I don't see the logic in it." Another lie, she had given a perfectly logical reason to completely avoid this topic and anything that may lead up to it. She needed to remain in control. Control held security, security held her together and she could not fall apart. Temperance found this logic to be infallible.

"I know you are." Accusing, she had not meant for her tone to sound like that but that was exactly how it came out.

"There is no way you can prove or disprove your theory. The only way you can know is from what I say, so you may as well have a little trust in me and believe me as I tell you that I am fine."

"How about you not eating? Or sleeping? Or never going back to your own damn house? How is that for proof, Brennan." She shouldn't let herself get upset, knew very well that yelling at her friend was not what she needed right now. She needed compassion, caring and some patience, pushing her would solve nothing. That didn't mean that she could stop herself though. Apparently her self-control had wilted away by now. "You've always been intense about work, however this is not intensive but self destructive! You haven't done anything but wear yourself to the point of recklessness since he left."

"Stop, Angela." Cool, calm and demanding, that was how she would handle this. She would not begin to freak out. She would not yell and scream. She would make her friend calm down, and they could then go back to their awkward silence.

"I can't just-just let you do this, Bren. It's not right, not you."

"I said to stop. I am not a child, I do not need your advice or help." Not only did she not need it, but she also did not want it. However, Temperance withheld adding that comment due to the juvenile nature of the words. "I am self-sufficient."

"It's been a week! You're a wreck. Have you looked in a mirror?" She was well aware that this would be leading them to back track. Erasing the small amount of progress she had managed to make. "Your eyes are blood shot, you've thinned out even more and not to mention that you just look so damn sad all the time. If this is how you are after a couple weeks of him leaving what is going to happen after another week? What about in a month?"

"Excuse me, but I am finished with my meal and you are behaving rather disrespectfully so I will go now." With that she set a twenty down on the table and calmly left the restaurant. Holding on to her fortitude best she could as she went.

Apparently fleeing was necessary for even the strongest of people sometimes.

* * *

Dumb, stupid, idiot, moronic, mindless, just the beginning of the words she could use to describe herself at the moment. She should not have said what she did to Brennan, should not have hurt her in the way she did. Was she brainless? Had she gone completely mad? Bringing up what was affecting her friend was the worst possible move if she ever wanted to get anywhere with her.

Groaning, she set her head down on the steering wheel of her car, not having driven anywhere yet as she was unsure of where she should go or what she should do. Right now beating herself up seemed to be working rather effectively.

To be honest she wasn't even sure she knew what happened back there. She knew what she was doing, the disaster she was inevitably creating. It was as though she could not hold herself back. Once upon a time she was able to control what she did, resist the temptation and think things through before diving head first into something. Most of those somethings being very shallow water, cracking her head once she reached the bottom.

She may have never of been the type to analyze or think things through all the way to the end, always being a living in the moment person, but when had she become so irresponsible? She was supposed to be an adult. Instead she was behaving as a teenager. Certainly Sweets would have some input on her frontal lobe and its lack of functioning lately.

But now she had responsibilities. Not just her job or some sort of relationship. She had a friend, her best friend, who needed her right now. Needed her to be there and to be patient and understanding. Not yelling at her in the middle of dinner and calling her a complete mess. Booth had asked her of this and although he may be a total rat bastard to her at the moment, he loved Brennan. Angela could not fathom how if he loved her so much he could possibly abandon her and break her heart the way he did. There was a reason, there had to be, because Booth would never, could never, do this unless there was some sort of benefit to Brennan along with it.

He was not Angela's sole reason for her new found and passionate dedication to her friend. She was doing this for Brennan. Her best friend, despite how different they may be. She would collect herself, think of her words and actions before hand. This was important. Brennan was important. And for that reason she would start doing things better. Start being a better person and a better friend.

* * *

Fighting tears back was hard whenever she was alone. In front of others there was no choice, no option but to will them away and hold her head up high. Once she was alone she needed to remind herself of the shame that crying brought. Even when she was by herself she needed to remember the importance of being strong and holding on to her dignity. One of the things Temperance Brennan hated most was when she would look in the mirror after crying hard and having to see her eyes, all puffy and red, she looked ridiculous, and that would remind her that that is exactly what her actions were. Ridiculous. Crying was irrational, it did not get you anywhere or anything. So why waste time with it?

Right now though, there was a little voice, talking right over her omnipresent irrational voice, telling her that she needed to just let it out, that crying was the beginning of coming to terms with her sadness and desperation during this certain situation. It did not go unnoticed by her that the voice sounded an awful lot like _him_. Just as it would be if he were here to help her through this. Of course had he been here this entire predicament would not even exist.

She rubbed a hand across her eyes, wiping away the beginning formation of tears. She would turn her focus onto her work and ignore these metaphorical demons that were haunting her. Why did he leave her? What did she do to deserve this? She shuddered at the thought of that. What did she do to deserve him in the first place? Nothing. She had nothing to offer him. He deserved so much better than her. A better partner, better colleague, better friend. He deserved someone who believed in what he did, who did not so blatantly mock his religion, did not call him stupid or ever consider being a loser. He deserved so much more than she ever gave or ever could give. For his sake she should be glad he left. He would be happier.

That did not mean that Temperance Brennan did not think selfishly ever. It did not mean that she was not angry with him for leaving her, breaking their partnership. What about all those murder victims who needed justice still? What about the families that would never get answers? What about _her_? Wasn't she important? Didn't she matter to him at all? She hated him. Hated him for leaving. Hated him for teaching her about love and feelings and faith. Despised him for the emotions he drew out of her. The way he would make her feel comfortable enough to throw her arms around him and cry when she was scared. She hated him for giving her stupid little gifts and always trying to make her eat pie. She hated him for the fact that he made her close with his son as well. Hated him for wearing that stupid Cocky belt buckle. She hated him for betraying her. He promised. He promised to never do that and now he had.

She hated him for being Booth.

**I know it may seem like I am going in circles with Angela right now, I was entirely unsure if I should keep that bit or not originally. I decided to leave it because it is intended to show that although she is trying it is not something that is easy for her, she is still slipping up, obviously. I do hope it was okay.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Well here is the next segment and perhaps you will get a couple of answers this time around...Or maybe not. Just read and find out I guess. Oh, and review when you have finished. Also, if it is not too much to ask, I would just like to request that if you do feel so inclined to leave a review that perhaps tell me what it is you don't like as well as what you did. I like to get a feel for my readers and also, progress with my writing. I would really appreciate your assitance with that. Thank you all.**

**Also, am I the only one who freaked over the 100th episode? Dear God, I nearly had a heart attack I believe. At the same time though, the whole thing was soooo amazing. Especially the end. Emily deserves an Emmy for that performance.**

* * *

Her head popped up from her desk at the sounding of soft knocks against her office door. She winced and let out a quiet groan as she felt the pain deep in her levator scapula muscle. Slowly she stood from her chair and made her way to the door, seeing Angela standing there with an easily detectable look of guilt and worry. She opened the door only to be wrapped and squeezed tightly. "I am so, so sorry, Bren. I didn't mean to do that to you. I was awful."

Brennan began to squirm out of the hug. Both from discomfort and the plain awkwardness that she got from hugs. "It is alright. You were angry and obviously distraught. Anger creates irrational actions which is why I tend to stay away from such a thing."

"It's not alright, Sweetie. What I did it was...Mean."

"Perhaps that is not the best word for it," Temperance was between consoling her friend and nearly agreeing with her. What Angela said was hurtful but surely those were not her intentions. "You were concerned. That is not mean."

"Are," she corrects quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"'I am still concerned for you, Brennan. You never went home at all last night. No shower or changing your clothes or anything." She would not start another argument just try and calmly explain her reasons for being a so worried. At least she hoped she would manage to stick to that.

"I fell asleep," Brennan explains, and it was very much a truth as well. She had originally possessed every intention of going home around five in the morning and laying down for an hour before getting herself together for work. She had fallen asleep around four. "What time is it?"

"Nearly eight."

Good for her, she slept. A solid and steady four hours of sleep-at her desk at work, but still, she did sleep. "I will go home and get myself together now. Let me just find Dr. Saroyan and explain my absence during work hours." Surely her boss would understand considering all of the extra hours Temperance had recently put in.

"You go," Angela insisted immediately. "I'll be sure to let Cam know for you."

"Alright," Brennan complied. Grateful for the offer. "Thank you, Angela."

Brennan turns to leave, walking by Angela. "Wait."

"Yes?" she asks, turning around to face Angela.

"Are we...Are we okay?"

Such worry laced through her voice that even Temperance herself could detect it. "Of course. Friends fight sometimes. Don't they?"

"Yes, Sweetie. Yes they do." And with that they exchanged gentle smiles before separating.

* * *

Angela concentrated on the deep lines, pushing the oil pastels against the paper, watching as the colors seemingly came together to make something different, something better than either of them could make all on their own. She had finished the facial reconstruction on victim #14358 and had now moved on to just relaxing herself into her own art. Getting lost into the shapes and colors, the false beauty that she could present on to this plain and empty page. This was something she did without thinking, without considering or wondering. It all came naturally to her.

The shrill of her cell phone broke her out of her well relaxed trance. She sighed but searched through her bag until finally locating the source of the loud noise. "Hello," she said simply into it. Unlike nearly everyone else she knew who had the tendency to say their name upon answering, she stuck to the friendly and simple greeting.

"Angela."

The voice, it was deep and male, and so very familiar... "Booth?"

"Yes," he answers, apparently having heard the confused and questioning tone she had in her voice when she spoke his name. "I need you to do something for me."

"What the hell, Booth? You disappear, breaking her to pieces and putting a strain on the entire team and you still have the balls to call and ask for a favor?" She leaves the word "her" just like that. There was something about saying her name to him, or his name to her. Like hearing it would be like death to them.

"Is she-is she that bad?" he asks, his voice suddenly becoming weak and fragile. It seemed as though he was on the verge of tears if his voice could be trusted as an indicator.

"What do you care?" Perhaps it was rude and maybe even out of line, but he deserved every ounce of anger and hatred directed at him.

"Don't say that."

"Why? So you don't feel like such a jackass?"

"So I don't go running back."

His answer surprises her, putting her to silence for a minute. After hearing the strangled whisper say those words she could not help but soften a little. He loved her. That had not changed. "What do you need, Booth?" her words became soft, the sound of anger now being overcome with a deep sadness.

"I need information. Information that I can't get myself."

"You're FBI," she states plainly. That had not changed had it? "You have access to a whole lot more files than the local artist at the Jeffersonian does."

"I know. What I lack is computer skills."

"I'm not following." Angela glances around in a paranoid manner, she looks out of the glass walls and on to the platform. Brennan stood there, hair tied back and eyes boring into a bone. She looked at peace just then. Finally, if only for that moment, she was at peace.

"It's not something I have clearance for, and it's not something you have clearance for."

"You want me to hack someone," she states, quickly catching up to what he was saying.

"Yes, can you?"

"I'm not sure," she admits. Angela was excellent with computers, but things like codes and firewalls were very different from reverting images and triangulating figures. "But I can try."

And with that Booth relays the information to her. He spoke quietly, as though others could be at the door listening, or that was her impression at least. "Thank you, Angela."

"You may be a jackass, but you're still my friend." She could not believe those words as they slipped from her mouth. It felt like betrayal to her dear friend who was just yards away.

"One more thing?"

"Sure, Booth."

"Keep her safe. I know it's not easy, but that's why I'm here, and if I have to be here then you need to be there. Watch over her, make sure she eats all of her meals. Don't try and make her do things. Bring her food to her office at night and just leave it. Don't say anything. She will be more complaisant. Don't try and force her home at night, she will sleep better if you just let her crash on the couch in her office."

"I promise, Booth," she says as he stops to take a breath.

"I'm not done yet. Don't push her to talk. You know how that makes it so much worse for her. Keep all subjects very basic, ask her about who she's currently examining. It makes her happy and distracts her. She won't want to go in the field, I know that already, please make sure it stays that way. I don't trust her out there with anyone but myself. Even if she might lecture me on being alpha-male for it."

"You're right," she interrupts, unsure if he is finished with his long list of instructions. "She won't even consider the field. She sent Nigel-Murray out to go retrieve a body two days ago. Only did her examination and then that was it. No follow up, no desire to figure out what happened through out the investigation."

"That's not her is it?" he asks but gives no time for a response. "This may sound awful, but I'm glad. If she studies the people who died years ago, the ones that don't involve crazed serial killers, then she's safer. I need her safe."

"Is that all, Booth?" It wasn't hurrying or impatient, just a question to be sure he had finished what he needed to say.

"One more thing," he says and gives a light, lifeless chuckle. "That's what I said a while ago, isn't it?"

Her own quiet laugh in response puts a sudden ease to both friends.

"Make sure she's not alone, and, even more importantly, make sure she does not think she is alone. Have the whole team go to Founding Father's some night. Her birthday is next month, buy her something special even if she hates you for it. Call her dad, be sure he comes to visit her. Suggest she go visit Russ and Amy perhaps. A weekend there would be good for her. Just make sure she knows how loved she is and how amazingly important she is. Oh, and make sure she smiles. Not right now, I know right now she may not feel like it, but in the future. Make sure that she smiles and laughs, every day, if possible."

"I want all of these things for her too, Booth." He needed to know that she cared for Brennan just as much as he did. Maybe more since she would never abandon her like he did. "She's just as important to me."

"I know that. Just make sure she does too."

"I will, I promise. To all of it. I promise."

"Thank you, Angela," his voice so sincere, so full of deep emotion, that she knows how much those words are meant.

"Sure thing. What number do I call once I have this...Information you require."

"You don't," he says simply. "I'll contact you again when I can."

"Are you in trouble?" she asks him quietly. Her voice dropping a few decibels with the seriousness of the question. Not as though their conversation had been light and care free before of course. But just the thought of it...If something happened to him, what would that mean for Brennan? What would that mean for all of them?

"I just need Bones to be safe."

"That isn't even close to an answer to my question." And with that lack of information it told her everything. He was in trouble, perhaps the kind that might make him desperate enough to come give farewell instructions on how to be sure "his Bones" was cared for.

"It's all I have of an answer to give. I will be in contact soon. Thank you again."

And with that she heard nothing but silence.

* * *

Brennan reluctantly stepped off of the platform, finished with her examination but already missing the calming feeling that she had felt. Paperwork was distracting but not like that was. Studying those bones, reading them all like a story, the story of another's life, it was what she loved most about her job. Maybe another trip should be considered. Now was an excellent time for such a thing, and certainly she would be able to find somewhere fascinating to go to. The idea sounded simply wonderful to her right now. Why had she not thought of this sooner?

She sunk down into her office chair, her ankles and calves thanking her for the break. She began shuffling through some papers on her neatly kept desk, finding the file she was looking for and filling it in. They were close to identifying victim #14538 she was pretty certain. That would be her ninth this week.

As she finished with it she placed it back down on her desk and began going through the few other folders that were on her desk. Nigel-Murray's work which she had already signed with approval was relocated to right in front of her desk. She needed to be sure that Cam got it back. Her hands fell on a certain file. One that she wanted to rip up to pieces and stomp on. It was confirming that they were no longer partners. It was the full acceptance that he was gone. That he had left her.

She set it back down and gently opened it. Their partnership, torn apart. Forever. She still wondered why. Still turned that question over again and again in her mind. After all he never said anything to her. If he had hated her all this time then surely it would have been shown in one way or another. Wouldn't it? Or had it all been an act. An act to further along his career and gain the status he needed among his coworkers. Perhaps he had used her.

That didn't fit though. If he hated her then why would he take a bullet for her? Why would he place his hand on the small of her back while they walked? Why would he tell her she was special and that he loved her, even if it may be in a professional at-ta girl way? Why would he tell her what making love is all about? She just could not solve this mystery, the logic was nowhere to be found in any of it.

She thought of the last few weeks. Had anything changed between them? Were they different? Had they stopped being Booth and Bones?

_Two weeks, four days, and one hour earlier._

_"Booth, would you stop touching stuff for two seconds while I sign this?" Brennan asked becoming quickly exasperated with her partner's very apparent impatience. Did he really have to get into every one of her artifacts though?_

_"C'mon, Bones, you do book signings all the time. How long can it take to sign your name?" He knew he was probably getting on her last nerve, but that was okay for him. Because there was a difference when he got on her last nerve and when others got on her last nerve. For one she always got this pinchy little annoyed face and then would send him the most adorable glare. Had he ever thanked God enough for the fact that Bones could not read his thoughts?_

_"I need to read these, Booth. Make sure I am not signing off on shipping away one of the muesuems precious artifacts."_

_"You have the authority for that?" Booth questioned increduously._

_"Well, it would go by Cam as well, of course but I was trying to give an example," she explained slowly. Making sure she was explaining herself accurately. "You are the one who taught me that after all."_

_"That I am, Bones. That I am," he smiled at her, his most genuine and loving smile that he held. It really belonged to her, and only her. "Are you done yet?"_

_That was the last straw for her. She stared up at him mustering the most evil look she could and sending it directly his way. "Just sit down for two minutes, Booth."_

_He smiled to himself once she had looked away. So damn cute. "Whoa, first you say two seconds and now two minutes? What's next? Two hours?" he knew that eventually she would get angry enough to stop what she was doing, that was not receiving any progress anyhow, and do as he asked. Which was for her to join him for lunch at the diner._

_"I'll just finish it after!" she exclaims and dramatically throws her arms up in the air. Success._

_"Great! Let's go," Booth says happily dropping the toy he'd been messing with earlier. (Toy, priceless Egyptian artifact. Same difference.) He grabbed her coat as she gathered her belongings and held it out for her to place her arms into. She said nothing but rolled her eyes and simply did as he silently requested. Resitance was futile when it came to Seeley Booth and her well being._

_"You do realize that you are extremely annoying, right?" she questions him with the slightest hint of detectable teasing. He would be the one to pick up on it from her though. Always him._

_"Now, Bones, you might want to be nice to me or I will make you order your own fries," he threatened her teasingly. Not as though it could be a big deal for her but for some reason she always refused, insisting on stealing half of his instead. Surely there was no logic in that action. Of course if he asked her she would materialize some sort of anthropoligcal doo-dah of sharing and blah blah blah. He would listen to her talk about anything, as it was an excuse to stare at her, but sometimes he really just zoned right out on her anthropoligcal rambles and zoned right in on...Well, her. Her eyes, the way they would light up with excitement, or her lips, the way they would tilt up barely at all but something he could still tell, or the way her hair had fallen that day or just the radiance of pure her in general. She was the most beautiful and fascinating being that he had ever had the chance to see on a daily basis, after all. Most beautiful and fascinating being ever if you asked him, but he may be slightly biased considering the whole undying love thing he had for her. Only a little though._

_"Booth?" Brennan said slightly louder this time. His eyes had gained this glazed over quality and he did not seem to have heard her at all from when she had said the car was the other way._

_"Yeah, Bones?" he asks, trying not to give himself away. She smiles at him a little. Dear God ,would pressing her against a wall and kissing her senseless be consisdered giving himself away?_

_"You're going the wrong way," she stated, pointing a finger in the correct direction of the SUV._

_"Thanks, Bones," he says quietly and only then does he realize his hand had somehow made it's way to the small of her back. He really should pay more attention of these things. What if he had done something much more innapropriate? Oh, the possibilities. Now he knew why he was taught the "think of grandma" trick. He would need to remember to thank Mikey Roberts if he ever saw him again._

_"What're you thinking about?" she questions him after he remians silent for a while longer. It was not unlike him to get lost in thought sometimes, but he had this...Admiring stare about his eyes and yet the only thing he was looking at was the path in front of him, and her occasionally of course._

_"My grandmother," he blurts out before more careful thought. Oh well, how dangerous could discussing his long ago passed away grandmother be?_

_"I have never heard you mention her. Is she deceased?"_

_"Okay, Bones, quick lesson here, don't just ask people that, okay?"_

_"Well, why not it is a reasonable question, isn't it? Grandparents are elders of a much higher age than the individual and therefore it would not be highly unlikely to question if they were deceased."_

_"Just not how to go about it, alright?"_

_"Fine, now what is it you were so thoughtfully considering of your possibly alive, possibly dead grandmother?"_

_Booth chuckled to himself knowing she only doing this to annoy him some. He loved it. "She's dead, Bones."_

_"That was all I asked before," sometimes she did not comprehend why he insisted on being so persistantly difficult._

_"Just trying to help you," he said as he opened her car door for her and shut it once he was sure she was safely inside before going to his side and climbing in._

_"As always," she mumbled under her breath. His constant alpha male behaviourisms could really ware on a person after a while. Or at least on her they could._

_He laughed again as he started the engine and turned off the heat as it was currently just blasting cold air on to the already frozen passengers. "Can't say you don't like it, Bones."_

_She was silent for a moment, trying to figure that out. "Well why not? You already are aware that I do not. Would you prefer I say it in different terms?" He made very limited sense to her sometimes._

_"I didn't actually mean that you cannot say it, but that I know you do. Sometimes, to a certain extent," he corrected himself quickly. He knew that some of the things he did she hated, but he was also aware that some things, like him calling her Bones or dragging her out to eat, she secretly had a soft spot for. And so did he._

_"I do not. In fact you alpha male behaviour is nothing more than a blade in my back."_

_"Thorn in my side," he automatically corrected. "Most likely confused with the saying 'stabbed in the back.'" He literally could not help himself sometimes. It was automatic._

_"Still, I do not like it," she lied this time, lied through her jaw. She loved that someone cared for her enough to worry about her wearing a coat or eating lunch everyday even if they had to some and make her do it themselves. No one had cared for her like this since she was fifteen and, yes she was independent, and of course she could take care of herself, but that didn't mean she did not appreciate the endearing things Booth did for her. "In fact I hate every second of your constant nagging."_

_Now_

Was that it? Was that what had finally caused him to leave her? Did he decide that if she did not appreciate it then she was not worth the trouble? Did he just decide that in general she was not worth the trouble? Did he no longer care for her? Did he no longer want to be his alphamale self with her?

She knew it was her fault, now she needed to find out what it was she had done so terribly wrong to make him leave her like he did. To abandon her and betray his promises like everyone else before him. She knew the reason was there, or perhaps it was much more than a singular reason but a mountain of them all piling up over the years until finally he decided she was simply too much trouble than she was worth.

All her fault. It was all her damn fault.

* * *

**I do hope the last bit was okay. I wrote it a long time ago, back when I wrote the first chapter, and even with the altercations I have made I am still a bit unsure. Let me know your opinions!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sigh, more angst ahead dear readers. Thanks to all of you who reviewed and such last chapter! I really do appreciate it! If any of you have any more constructive criticism, opinions or anything else please feel free to tell me so. Improving my writing is my goal here and you really are the best to help with that! Thank you all!**

**Now, this next bit here is going to be slightly spoiler-y. It is kind of a common knowledge sort of thing if you know anything about the next few episodes coming up but if you do not know and do not want to know anything to do with it until comes (as I usually am) then please just skip on to the story! Now, for those of you, if any, that are left I had a bit of a premonition the other night and was wondering if you cared to inform me if I was crazy or not. Alright, so it is to my understanding that Andrew Hacker will be returning soon, along with some lady named Catherine having some sort of relationship or another with the one and only Seeley Booth. If both of these understandings are proven to be correct then wouldn't that mean that Booth will be dating "Kathy" and Brennan will be dating "Andy." Perhaps it is irony, coincidence or just the writers having some fun with us, but I thought of it and just wanted someone to let me know if I was reading _way_ too much into something or not. For all I know I could be far behind and this has already been discussed to death. I do not use message boards and like I said try to avoid spoilers so I am just be late catching up.**

**Okay, I am done now. Go on and read.**

* * *

Temperance had seen Angela's staring and pleading eyes at around nine that night. She hadn't wanted to return home, however she somehow found herself packing her things up and turning off the small light in her office. She would just write once she got home. That would be good. She needed to finish the next chapter to her book anyway.

She passed Angela and exchanged a smile and wave with her. Even though this may not be what she wants it was the right thing to do, and sometimes it may just be for the best to do what the right thing was as opposed to doing what she wanted. Exchanging her wants for a friend's, that was a considerate thing to do.

The drive home was uneventful and filled with thoughts of plot ideas. Unfortunately, the one she had pondered the most was of Andy leaving Kathy. Her publisher would not be happy if she wrote any such scenario. According to her the two characters needed to be in a romantic relationship already. Apparently drawing it out too much would bore readers and cause them to quit reading. What did her publisher know anyhow? Had the woman sold millions of copies of her own novel?

Temperance grumbled her usual greeting to the doorman as she made her way up the stairs and to her door. She fumbled with her keys for a moment only to discover her door already unlocked. She took alert of this and felt her muscles tense up. It was times like these she still wished she had her oversized gun, despite the fact that she may not be capable of handling it well. At the moment martial arts would be her only term of defense, and she would take what ever she could get.

She set her bag down as soon as she entered, noting the light that illuminated from the kitchen. All of her valuables and artifacts and a robber would head towards the kitchen? Two options remained with that figuration. Either they severely lacked skill when it came to burglary or they were not a robber at all. She relaxed slightly at this as she made her way towards the room. She paused in the doorway as she saw just who it was that had helped himself into her apartment. He was humming lightly while stirring what appeared to be a pasta and vegetable medley of some sort.

"Tempe," he says once he sees her as he turns to head towards the fridge. "I must be getting old. I didn't even hear the door open."

"You have obviously aged and so it would not be unreasonable to assume that your auditory receptors are not as strong as they once were, but mostly I am just capable of being extremely quiet."

"Well, I suppose you are exactly that," he gives her a gentle smile as he comes and gives her a hug. Albeit awkward, it was still so very calming to Temperance. She relaxed slightly at the momentary comfort found in being wrapped in her father's arms. "I made us some dinner. I hope you're hungry."

"I could eat," she says quietly, the shock of her father appearing in her kitchen on a Thursday night still being processed. "Why are you here?"

"Can't a father come visit his little girl once in a while? Cook her a nice meal?" Temperance knew as well as Max did that he had very different motivations for visiting than cooking dinner or having a chat. Somehow, he had managed to find out what she had been trying to hide and deny from anyone that she could. For some reason she felt the shame for Booth leaving. As though people would look down on her in her obvious insignificance.

"I suppose there is nothing wrong with that." She would accept his reason. Otherwise he might tell her the truth for why he was there and Temperance feared that she would lose the last bit of composure she had if such a thing occurred.

"How are you, Baby?" he asks her gently, coming to approach her again but taking a few steps back as he sees her wearily back away.

"I am doing well," she lies to him. She lies to everyone, but she would have to especially lie to him. He was her father. He loved her and she loved him. That did not mean she had the trust in him to let him see her in her true state. That honest, broken being she had become. Because someone else had left her. Just like he had all those years ago.

"I'm glad." He must know she is lying. She was grateful he was willing to let her. "I made some sort of Indonesian dish. I think you will like it."

"Sounds great," she replies,her voice a few decibels lower than she normally spoke. Making her way to the living room she peels off her coat, along with her jacket and slips off her shoes. She felt a little more relaxed, a little less tense. "Can I help with anything?" she asks, reentering the kitchen.

"You could set the table," he offers to her. It was an easy job, he could very simply do it himself, but Max Keenan knew his daughter and he knew that she needed something to do. Something that would cause her to feel useful and needed. He would happily supply her with that.

"Of course," she says and sets out on the tasks. Removing plates and forks and knives, placing everything just so around the table. She smiled lightly, remembering doing this many times throughout her childhood and how much she abhorred it. She preferred more challenging tasks ever since she was very small. Something more difficult, such as taking out the trash or sweeping the kitchen floor (which may sound easy but for a little girl was very hard considering how tall the broom was.) Setting the table was much too mundane for her. "What would you like to drink?" She asks as she pulls out a wine glass and fills it a small amount with her favorite red wine.

"A beer would be good." She pulled his drink of choice from the fridge and set it by his plate. Being sure to pick the beer Booth liked as opposed to her preferred Moroccan kind. Since, according to him, it tasted like ear wax.

She sat down, waiting patiently for a minute as he transferred the meal from the pot to a serving platter and set it gently down on to the table. "I haven't made it before so forgive me if it tastes like feet."

"I believe the odds of such a thing occuring are rather unlikely even if you did prepare it incorrectly."

"Well thank you, sweetheart."

"You're welcome," she replies, unsure of if he had meant his thanks or not. She places a small amount of the meal on her plate. Even in her current, hardly wanting to eat much of anything mode, she must admit that not only did this smell spectacular, but also looked simply delicious. She tested her theory and found it proven at the delicious sensation in her mouth. It was the first time she had enjoyed a meal in a while. "It is wonderful," she says reassuringly as she takes another bite.

"I'm glad that you like it." They ate in silence for awhile. Unlike with Angela though it was comfortable. Just a relaxing dinner between the two of them, despite the lateness of the hour and the strangeness of the whole situation in general. "So," he starts quietly. He wanted to ask about Booth. Why in the hell he would leave her and such, however he figured that subject was most likely not only touchy but also would just lead to her being angry and silent, therefore ruining their dinner. "What would you say to taking a trip with me?"

She looked up in surprise, "A...Trip?" The idea was foreign, they had not exactly reconnected into some form of a loving father/daughter relationship. In fact she still called him Max half the time. Not to mention trying to get him fired last year. Since then he had changed jobs and relocated closer to Russ. With little Haley being so sick a lot of the time it was left up to him to care for Emma on some occasions.

"To visit your brother."

"Russ?" she asks, as though she had another brother somewhere in the world.

"Yes," Max says, being patient with his daughter. Usually her mind worked so quickly that she could figure everything out in the matter of nanoseconds. It was fairly obvious she was not quite herself at the moment. "We could go for the weekend. See Amy and him, and when was the last time you saw the girls? They've gotten so big. Haley was asking for you a couple weeks ago."

"I-I don't know, Dad," she answers with absolute honesty. This was definitely not the kind of trip she had in mind. "I might have to work."

"Surely they could make it one weekend without you." He was going to try and push her on this. Angela had called him, told him what had happened and just how his daughter was doing. She also told him that Tempe needed to get away, suggesting that the two of them go see Russ. "You do have assistants. Plus the bug guy seems to handle things well."

"Hodgins," she corrects automatically as her mind goes through alternate excuses.

"When was the last time you even saw your brother?"

She thought about it for a moment, trying hard to recall the last time she had seen him. Had it really been since Dad's trial? Fifteen years apart and they finally reconnect only to go two years without much more than a phone call and exchanging some Christmas gifts through the mail. The piece of construction paper slopped with glitter and stickers still hung on her fridge, the only decorative item on it. Although it was not the most beautiful piece of art work she had ever received it was the one of which she was the most proud of. "I suppose, if it will not be putting Russ and Amy out too much, a short visit could not hurt."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm. "Should we leave Friday night or Saturday morning?"

"Definitely the morning. I will have to work late on Friday if I will be gone for the whole weekend." That could certainly be on her list of untrue things. Temperance had done enough work in one week to qualify her for nearly a month off. She just did not want to spend more than one night there.

"Sounds like a plan," he says as he takes a drink from his beer, pushing his now empty plate back a little. "How's eight sound?"

"Like a very reasonable time."

"Great," he says standing from his chair. "Would you like some help cleaning up?"

"No," she says a bit too quickly. Eager to be in solitude again. "Thank you," was said obviously as an afterthought. "I will see you on Saturday."

"Sounds fantastic." And with that came a brief hug and then his exit from her apartment.

She was unsure how she felt now that he was gone. Somewhere torn between relieved and a little lonely. That was the most she had enjoyed herself since...Well...The dishes were not going to clean themselves now would they? She began to gather the things from the table, setting the empty dishes on the counter and pouring the remnants of dinner into a plastic container for later. She poured herself another glass of wine as she began her work of cleaning everything.

She scrubbed meticulously. Making sure each surface was cleaned perfectly. She focused on her work, in a way where it reserved her attention to be on the task as opposed to other things. The job was completed quickly and easily. She retired to the living room. Her now nearly empty wine glass in hand. Her head fell back in exhaustion, mental and physical. Perhaps tonight would be the night of which she could finally get a decent night's rest. It had been a bit too long since the last time she had managed that.

Next she knew her body was moving itself to a horizontal position across the couch and her eyes were slipping shut. Dear God had she been so tired this whole time? Her entire tense body relaxed as she slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

Unfortunately for her that sleep did not last the entire night. Her body awoke with a sudden jolt at the dream that had begun taking place in her mind. She groaned as she shifted to a sitting position on her couch. Her neck had increased in pain since that morning. She really was wreaking havoc on it recently. She was not sure if she felt more or less rested as she awoke. She may have dosed off well before eleven but it was hardly three now. Surely that was more sleep than she had been getting recently. Still her body begged for more, but her mind rejected it with such ferocity she did not dare defy it.

She felt helpless as she looked around her apartment. What could she do now? She never had gotten the chance to write, however now the idea seemed particularly revolting, as she feared of what may come out. Returning to the lab could always be a choice, couldn't it? If she changed her clothes and went over now it would just appear as though she had gotten their early, which she would have. Only it would be more like some sort of inhumane hour as opposed to being a little early.

Next she knew her feet were back in her shoes and her arms had found their way back into her coat. She had grabbed her keys and gone to her car. All of this without her own conscious thinking, just a series of subconscious decisions. She supposed all along she knew exactly where she was going so when she ended up where she was it certainly should not have been much of a surprise, as though this was inevitable.

She made her across the drive way, reaching down and pulling apart the blatantly obvious fake rock. She entered the building and then slowly and softly made her way up the stairs. She was in no rush, in fact her rational self did not have any sort of desire to be here. The other part of her needed to be here though, and just like her mental self had given into that of her physical self, it seemed that her brain had given into her heart. So that was why she found herself standing in his apartment.

It was empty. None of his items were there. No pictures or socks, no cereal boxes on the counter or shoes kicked by the door. It hit her then, he no longer lived there. He no longer lived anywhere near her. In fact, she had no clue where he had gone. She had not even gotten so much as a goodbye. Then, at that early hour in that lightly dusted apartment, reality fully caught up to her, and she sat down on the ground and sobbed. He was gone, and he was never coming back to her.


	6. Chapter 6

**The bad news: This chapter is short and mostly a filler.**

**The good news: I will update tomorrow to make up for it.**

**My day sucked. Make up for it by leaving me a review.**

* * *

"That's great, Sweetie," Angela gushed as Brennan filled her in on her weekend events. "I'm sure you will have a great time."

"I guess." Temperance cannot seem to help the very unenthusiastic tone that clearly displayed just how she currently felt of the situation. She had begun regretting her agreement from the moment she had actually thought it out. The positives that had been pointed out to her last night were now being heavily outweighed by all of the many, many things that could go wrong.

She was meeting her father at his house and then they would drive the rest of the way together, due to his insistence, so who knows where the conversation could lead to in that block of time. If Temperance were being honest then she would have to admit that she was frightened at the prospect of just what types of conversation could occur. Also, there was the fact that Russ and she were still not on the best of terms. They did not fight or any such thing but things were still awkward between them. The time they spent together always seemed so forced and tension filled. Even a simple conversation between the two of them required attention and effort. Next there was the fact that she did not know Amy all that well, though she seemed like a very nice woman, and it made her nervous. Plus there was the fact that she was horrible with children. Temperance thought she may just be more afraid of Haley and Emma than she was of anything else about the trip.

"Oh, Bren," Angela went into comforting mode as she saw the look of concentrated concern fix itself on to her friend's face. "Don't worry. Besides, you need a vacation, and what's the worst that could happen?"

Oh goodness, what a list there was for that. "I suppose you are right," Brennan says to avoid any further arguing over the matter. "I just hate to be leaving the lab for so long."

Angela gave her a look of utter disbelief. "First of all, it is two days, that is not long at all, and secondly you have been working your ass off around here."

"There is always more work to be done."

"Okay, stop, Brennan, just stop." She had no choice but to intercept that. If Brennan put in any more hours at the lab she would have to begin having her mailed forwarded there. "It will be fine. Now stop making up lame excuses not to go and just think of all the fun you are going to be able to have."

Temperance bit back any further comments that she may have, after all the day was still fairly early and she did not want to listen to her well intentioned friend for several more hours. "You are right. I just am a little nervous I suppose." More like ready to call and cancel whole thing. Perhaps she could say she was sick, or that there was a new case that needed to be finished as soon as possible.

"Sweetie," Angela cried, giving her friend an awkward hug, as Brennan was sitting at her desk and Angela was standing. "It's going to be great. I promise."

"Of course it will. I am behaving irrationally." Not just about the trip, a little voice reminded her. She must agree. Somehow weeping in your ex-coworkers newly empty apartment at an ungodly hour of the morning did not appear very rational.

"Just have fun," she says and begins to walk towards the door, knowing she would be shooed away soon anyhow. "Oh, and it's allowed sometimes you know."

"What is?" Temperance asked, confused by Angela's vague comment. "It" was not a properly descriptive word.

"Being irrational." And with that she was gone.

* * *

She pulled a few outfits from her closet and dresser and tossed them into her bag. Folding it all neatly and then zipping it shut. Temperance was not one to fuss over what she was packing. Her wardrobe was pretty much basic. She had her fancy stuff for exquisite dinners or elegant parties and then her work clothes which collided with her weekend clothing. Which, when considering that her weekend usually consisted of working, was no surprise. Nothing was particularly casual and at the same time, nothing was too fancy for a regular day. In the end it had taken her a total of three minutes to pack the two outfits and set of pajamas necessary.

The anxious feeling from earlier in the day had yet to fade away and Temperance was already anticipating another sleepless night. Something she was very used to by this point.

She picked her phone up, needing some advice, and pressed the speed dial button; she hears the rings begin. It takes halfway through the second ring for her to realize just what she had done. Quickly she pulls it away from her ear and hits the call end button. She tosses her phone to the other side of the bed and buries her face into her hands. It was just a habit. She was accustomed to calling him with all of her problems and worries. To her it was the natural act to carry out. It was just a momentary lapse in proper judgment. It wouldn't happen again. She would keep telling herself these things and she made sure of it never happening again by deleting the number from her phone.

She wondered if he felt guilty at all, if when he thought of her and how he had just left her like he did if that same gnawing awful feeling grabbed him as well. Was he being paralyzed by it? Had his entire life shifted as drastically as hers had? After all the promises he had made, all the kind words he had spoken to her, she wondered if he ever felt bad for going back on it all. Perhaps she deserved for him to leave, but that did not mean he had the right to. At least, not in the manner of which he did so.

But maybe him staying would have held him back. Perhaps guilting him into staying was simply too selfish. There was some quote, she believed from the Bible, although it was used in many situations for those who were not religious, that said that love was not selfish. If that were true and if she really did love him as she had become to believe at least a year ago, then to keep him with her would be the opposite of love.

That same quote continued on to say something else. It said that love never failed. That was not true. Love had failed her.

* * *

"_Missed call from 'Bones,'"_ read the message on his phone. It had rung for hardly a second before the noise had ceased. She must have changed her mind on wanting to talk to him. God, he missed her. He missed every little possible thing about her. The way she spoke, how she smiled, the way her hair would fall out from behind her ear, he could go on for days, years even.

Even as he sat here now, his plans in the process of being fully executed, he still wondered if he really had made the right choice. Some days it felt like there was no doubt that he had, and then on others he could swear he'd done it all wrong. He should be with her. What he was doing, it wasn't right unless he was with her.

He hoped she would be okay, that her heart would not break too much. He needed her to be happy and loved and cared for by so many people. Leaving her like he did, it would kill her a little bit. He knew that at the very beginning. He was supposed to be a constant for her. Always there next to her and help her through her trials in life. Now he was causing her to be in pain, and he despised himself for that. This was bigger than just him, and it was bigger than just her. This was what he had to do. For her, for his son, for everyone he cared for.

He had written her letters, each one cornier than the next, he thought. To be honest he was unsure if writing and explaining, as much as he could, would be better or worse for her. Angela said her heart was broken. Bones' heart doesn't break though. She was strong and, after a little while, she would be okay. Perhaps she could meet someone nice, someone who could love her right. He could sweep her off her feet and show her the beauty of life and of love.

That was supposed to be his job, that's what he wanted to give to her. He had always imagined that one day the two of them would finally break some rules and cross some boundaries, and that they would finally be together. He had only dreamed of waking next to her each morning, only fantasized of making sweet and tender love to her. He wanted to give her everything she deserved in life. He wanted to be her everything just like she was his. She had been his rock, what kept him steadfast and held him together on some of his darkest days. She was his light and he loved her. He loved her with such an intensity and passion he found it difficult to believe anyone could ever love more than that.

He would live for her and he would die for her. She knew that, he had told her that very thing as they sat eating at the diner. He would not go back on that, he could not in fact. Because he would never be able to live with himself if anything ever hurt her. And so, he would do just that. He was through being able to live for her, now he must fulfill the second part to his promise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's the next chapter. A day early just as I promised. I do hope you enjoy it. Mostly angst her but I can assure you that if you leave a nice review (or at least stick around read) next chapter there will be a little, well earned fluff. Let me know your opinions please!**

* * *

It was official. Temperance Brennan hated long car rides with other people. By herself she was fine, she enjoyed the silence and serenity, found it strangely soothing. When other people were involved it all became awkward and, personally, she found it rather draining. The conversation between her and her father started out tense and ended in uncomfortable silence. She sat, counting the miles until they arrived there, grateful she had driving duties to distract her a little at the very least.

Rain splattered across the windshield, the overcast clouds gave the day a grim effect. This was the kind of day where she would love to be in the lab, studying all of the bones just the way she loved to. Instead though, she was sitting in a car with her father, wondering if asking him if he is eating a healthier diet to prevent blocked arteries was appropriate or not. Either way, she did wish to know the answer. Considering his age and the diet she had seen him have in the past she was a little nervous of what the answer could be.

"This is a very nice car," her father comments.

"My publisher gave it to me as a gift," she replies. To be honest she did not understand why some people got so worked up over her car. She had failed to see what made it so specifically impressive aside from the excellent acceleration and the gaudiness of it from the outward view. In all actuality it was a lot like the other cars she had driven.

"Quite the gift."

"Yes, well I have made quite the grossing profit with my books." If only she were capable of continuing them. She had no ideas and when she would try and write anything she wrote was boring or too clinical for her editor to ever accept. Writing used to be a relaxing and relieving way to fill her free time. Now it felt like a nuisance and nearly impossible to perform properly. The fact that she was struggling so much made her feel stressed and rather displeased with herself. What kind of best selling author ceases to write because they were having a few personal struggles?

"Are you hungry now? We could stop to get something if you don't want to wait any longer," Max offered. The more time they were together the more he became aware of just how different she was behaving. It wasn't her. Angela had certainly not been exaggerating when she had called him up.

"I am fine," she says, the idea of greasy food filled with unsaturated fats and empty carbohydrates not appealing to her at the moment. "Unless of course you wish to stop."

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Just thinking of you."

Then the silence fell over them again. Temperance found herself wondering if she had ever used the radio in here, and if so, how it would be if she turned it on? Would that make things more or less awkward?

"Do you ever talk to that old assistant of yours?"

"Zack?" she asks in surprise. No one mentioned Zack, or the fact that she never was the only one out of them all to not visit him. The stabbing guilt she felt every time she saw him, and just where he was now, was just too much for her to handle. How selfish she really could be. She was the one who had ruined his heart enough to land him in that place, and now she felt too bad going to see him so she would just abandon him completely. "No," she answers simply. "I don't."

Max backs off from that topic quickly, he could tell from the edge in her voice that it was something of which she had no sort of desire to discuss. He tries to come up with something, something that would not hurt her to discuss. Perhaps Max Keenan did not know his daughter very well at all. He certainly had not known there was so much hurt in her life. She was happier before, just a short two weeks before he had a feeling she was doing great, but now that Booth had left her. Max felt his overprotective, fathering side begin to react. His need to go punch Booth's lights out was more and more pronounced as he thought of it.

She knew he was trying to make some sort of idle chit chat with her, and, if she were being honest, she had no interest in any part of it. She wished for them to both accept the silence and listen to the pattern of the rain. She was sick of people trying to talk about mundane things as though if they had her discuss her thoughts on the weather it would somehow make her think there were not five hundred other questions they desperately wanted to ask but could not. She just wanted everyone to be quiet.

"How's your next book coming?"

"Fine," she answers curtly and then presses the button for the radio and sending him a shoot glance to make sure he understood what that meant. Then she turned her gaze straight on to the road.

* * *

When they got there everything had been a bit of a blur to her. There was hugging and shrieks of excitement from little girls. Routine questions were asked, "How have you been?" "How was the ride?" just the usual stuff. Her stuff moved to a guest room, her father taking the couch, her trying to convince them a hotel would be no problem for her, them denying it. Finally they were all seated at dinner, everyone around an array of food, her father and Russ discussing something to do with basket ball, the girls whispering things to each other and then giggling. Temperance was unsure if it was because they found one another's comments humorous or the simple pleasure derived from the clandestine words they shared.

Amy lastly set a large bowl of salad on to the table before taking her own seat at the table, across from Brennan and next to Russ, who sat at the head of the table, and Haley on her other side.

People began to fill their plates with food. Temperance was fairly certain that to say Amy had outdone herself would have been a bit of an understatement. There was a whole chicken, potatoes, green beans and corn bread, all of the dishes having enough to feed ten people. "Do you do this every night?" Brennan asks Amy as she takes the scene in. Her dad helping cut up Emma's chicken, Haley clumsily trying to butter her corn bread and Russ already nearly finished with his first oversized helping of food.

"Hardly," Amy replies with a gentle smile. Her attention diverted as she reaches over to help her youngest. "We don't usually have nearly this much food every night. It's too hard for me to cook such big meals since I'm at work until the girls are out of school and then I have to focus on keeping the two of them doing their homework and out of trouble."

"I don't get into trouble," the little girl argues.

"I meant eat like this. Everyone at the table and such." She didn't know why she found the idea so surprising. Her family had done it as often as they could when she was a child, which was frequent. Yet for some reason the idea seemed so hard for her to grasp.

"Oh, absolutely. It's not usually as fancy as this, but we always do. I grew up with a big family and we always ate dinner together, something I loved, so I always knew I would want to do it when I had my own family."

"That sounds nice," Brennan says. It was hard to believe that her big brother Russ was really this father and husband that he was now. She didn't know what she expected, but it was obvious that that was exactly what he was and something that appeared to really make him happy. It was something she knew she would never have, and previously never desired to have, but perhaps there was some part of her in the past that did want this and knew just who she could have it with. Now that opportunity was forever gone, and she craved it more than she ever had before. "It sounds really nice."

* * *

Temperance regretted her decision of not fully insisting on spending the night in a hotel now more than she had before. Her mind was simply restless and she had the desire to do something, to actually get up and accomplish some sort of task. She wanted to go to work or to do a load of laundry, anything that she could really.

Sighing she once again shifted around in the small twin sized bed, her head falling back with a plop on to the pillows. She could always get out her laptop and try and write but the idea of that made her more frustrated than she was already. She rolled off of the bed and set her feet on the ground. First she paced around the room for a little while, feeling like she was caged and trapped in that small room and needing to burn off the adrenaline that her body was unfortunately producing.

Eventually she had wandered from the bedroom and instead had tiptoed into the kitchen. She had no clue what she wanted from there, so her eyes simply wandered around the small room, taking in the simplistic look of it.

"Hey." She jumps slightly as she hears the voice behind her. She turns and sees her brother looking half asleep still. "What are you still doing up, Tempe?"

"The same question could be utilized towards you."

"Remember when we were kids and one of us would call something first, like shotgun or the bigger ice cream cone?"

"Yes," she answers slowly and slightly confused as to where he could be going with this.

"Well in this case I am simply going to say that I asked you first."

She gave him a light glare but felt her body slump back against the counter in defeat. "I couldn't sleep."

"Why?"

Damn, she thought that'd be enough. It always was for many other people. Lots of people struggled with difficulties sleeping. "I just couldn't," she replies in a bit of a defensive tone.

"Oh please, Tempe," he says, giving her a look that clearly showed he knew there was more behind it. "I know you. Don't lie to me."

She began to think up other excuses, any possible valid reason as to why she was tossing and turning during such a late hour when she was clearly, even to those who simply looked at her, exhausted. Then a thought passed through her mind, very simple, only a single word. _Why?_ This was Russ, her big brother. He had seen her crying over various things, boys more than she would care to admit now, all through middle school. He had held her hair whilst she threw up during some family event that she had blocked most of. He had been there when their parents vanished, or at least he really tried to be. Russ Brennan was her big brother. He had seen her be strong and he had seen her be a complete wimp. He was her best friend for fifteen years, he was still her "Marco" even today. Nothing would go and change that. There was nothing to hide from him.

"He left," Temperance heard herself acknowledge in a strangled whisper.

"I know," Russ replies, watching his little sister as she fights back tears and tries desperately to draw in a shaky breath.

"He never...never said goodbye," and with that a sob erupts from her chest, built up for much too long. "He just left me." Suddenly she was crying into his arms, Russ once again being the big brother who held her together. That was his full time job, it so appeared, when they were children. He had to help hold her together. "He didn't love me enough to stay. Why wasn't I enough?" Those are the last words spoken that night as her big brother tries so hard to just bring her a little comfort. The tears fell down her cheeks and cries were released, and all he did was just hold on to his baby sister. Knowing just how this must feel to her. So she ignored the shame and fell apart to a million little figurative pieces. Shattered beyond any sort of figurative repair.


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright, well here is a bit of fluff in the beginning. I am giving you all a break from the angst for now. Things will be progressing to the start of resolution soon. Just hang in here a bit with me. Let me know what you think!**

"Auntie Temperance!" a small voice exclaimed as a child came up and grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the playground. "Look! Look! I can hang upside down on the monkey bars now. Emma teached me." Temperance watched as the small girl skittered to the top, sat down and then locked her legs tight, calf into thigh, as she let herself fall back, letting out a loud squeal of laughter. Brennan felt a smile of her own grow on her face as she watched.

"Very good," she praised. The girls seemed to be slightly fascinated with her today, most likely since she was an older female, who was not their mother, who they naturally observed and felt the desire to interact with. She worried that she was doing the wrong thing most of the time, but so far they had not said anything.

"Careful there, Haley," Russ says as he comes up to her. His fingers danced over her stomach and she let out a shrill of laughter as she began to fall, his arms catching her and gently setting her back down.

"You made me fall, Daddy!" It was obvious to anyone that she was merely feigning anger while trying hard to hold back her giggles.

"Oh I did?" Russ asks innocently.

"Yes!" she exclaims with such fervor Temperance actually hears a light laugh bubble up out of her.

"Well then I guess I deserve some sort of punishment, don't I?"

"Indeed!" Emma exclaims as she runs around the corner and faces him. "To the dungeon immediately!" she yells dramatically while pointing her finger to one of the "towers" on the playground.

"Sorry," Russ apologises to her as he begins to be dragged away by Haley, hands tied behind his back and all. "I guess it's off to the dungeon with me for now. They're real sticklers for proper punishment."

Temperance waved back as his daughters march him away. She finds herself amused with childish antics, something of which surprises her some. Usually this would be something she would not understand in the slightest, after all there was not the least bit of logic in the game, but she saw the smiles and heard the laughs and knew that was the logic. Just plain old happiness.

"I'm sorry," Amy says as she comes up beside Brennan. "It appears my children have been a bit infatuated by you today. I hope they haven't bothered you too much."

"Oh," she says in surprise. "No, quite the contrary actually. Despite my greater level of intelligence I find talking and spending time with them to be rather fascinating. I am normally not very good with children so I suppose it is a good thing they at least like me."

"Like you? Are you kidding me?" Temperance gives her a strange look. Why would she kid over something like that? As Booth would say, she didn't even know how to kid. "They pretty much adore you and they have hardly been around you much. That's saying something for Emma especially. She can be very shy with people she doesn't know well."

Temperance has a hard time trying to figure out a good way to respond. Her assessment of the situation just told her that nothing was really necessary to say in reply, there would not be much of a benefit to it. "Well," she says, ignoring the side of her saying all those things and going with her Booth side and responding just because it was right. "They're pretty great kids."

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

"Brennan," she corrects. "The Dr. is a bit formal for family. Don't you think?"

"Yes," she replies with a hint of a smile. "I suppose it is."

"I escaped!" Russ yells as he half runs away from the two little girls who chase after him as fast as their legs manage to carry them.

"Come on, Auntie Temperance," Haley says, stopping to try and get her to join in. "We need help!"

Temperance had a refusal all in store while Amy stood there explaining to Haley while "Auntie Temperance" may not want to join in on their game. Somehow though her brain seemed to detach itself as she felt her legs suddenly take off after her brother, all ready to tackle him to the ground. She laughed as she went and for a moment she was fifteen at picnic with her family again, happy and young without worries weighing her down, and neither of them could help the side splitting laughs as they laid in the dirt. Temperance was fully prepared to gloat in her victory until he got up and dashed away from her again.

"Do you need a band aid?" Emma asks after seeing the impressive tackle her aunt pulled off.

Temperance smiled, bright and excited, and shook her head no. "I could use some help with an ambush though." And just like that they were going again, chasing and laughing with tackles and tags and tickles for the little girls. Her side ached from running and her breathing was becoming more and more difficult, yet this very moment was the most she had felt alive and the happiest she had been in a good two weeks. This was family, wasn't it?

* * *

The rest of the day passed by quickly after that. Filled with things like ice cream and piggy back rides. Temperance found herself much sadder than she had expected to be at the prospect of leaving. Her day had been the best she'd had in a while and she wanted more like it. Suddenly work wasn't the most appealing idea of what to do.

They exchanged hugs goodbye, Haley making her pinky promise to come back really soon and play with them again. Russ gathered her in his arms, the ones she still remembered from her childhood and whispered to her, "It's gonna get better, Sis. I promise." Before making her swear that if she needed anything to let him know.

Temperance tossed her father the keys, "You drive on the way to your house," she told him. He didn't ask questions but did as she asked as she settled into the passenger's seat, closed her eyes, and drifted off.

* * *

Temperance found herself actually smiling as she entered her apartment. The trip had gone well, much better than just well, actually. It surprised her how much more refreshed she now felt. It was as though she had managed to kind of forget her many current problems for part of today. She'd had more fun than she'd had in such a long time. Not just fun but childish and pointless fun. It had given her a freeing effect and she gladly hung on to it as long as she could

Obviously things were not so bright and cheery once she had actually gotten home. There were no supportive big brothers or loving happy children to not only distract her but pull her in by their enticing ways. At the very least she knew this weekend had been good for her, even though it now meant that things would be even worse to her now. Having happiness taken away from you just as it became yours was never easy.

Angela had called her while she was on her way home, wanting to go out to dinner. Temperance had agreed and now had to quickly shower and get the rest of herself together in under an hour. She hoped that this dinner would go better than the last. This time she could talk about her trip and perhaps she would have time to write down some things on those note cards she still had pulled out from last time.

The hour seemed to go by fast as she got herself together, leaving her apartment in just enough time to reach the restaurant. Moroccan tonight, the diner and Founding Fathers had been suggested first. Brennan shot them down instantly. Something different would be good anyhow. Different was good, change was good. People change, they evolve and shift in all aspects of life. Including where they ate.

The traffic had caused Temperance to be late, making her right on time with Angela who pulled into the parking lot as Brennan pulled into a parking space.

"Sweetie!" Angela yelled as she ran and gave her a hug.

"Angela, I was gone for a day and a half. This seems like a bit of an overreaction."

"Sorry," she said as she pulled away. They walked into the restaurant and stood, waiting to be seated. "So how was it? Did you have fun?"

"Although I was doubtful I will admit that I had a very good time."

"Really? You did?" Angela had been so worried ever since Brennan had left Friday night. Worried about what this weekend might bring, worried over if she was sleeping or eating, worried that the whole thing could have made it worse. To know that it not only went well but that Brennan actually had a good time? That was a wonderful thing to hear. "That is so great! Did you do anything special?"

They situated themselves at the table, both picking up their menus and began reading them. "Well, it was not as though we had a lot of time, but we did have a dinner and go to the park."

"That sounds like fun. How were the girls?" Their conversation is briefly interrupted as they place their orders for dinner.

"They appeared to be rather tantalized by me. Obviously it was due to the fact that I am an older female of which the naturally look up to," Temperance says, restating the facts she had been telling herself all day.

"Or it could just be that Aunt Temperance is a lot of fun and they like you," Angela suggests as she gives her friend a teasing smile.

"Well, I suppose so, but anthropologically speaking my proposition is most probably accurate."

"Well, whatever, I'm just glad you had fun." Brennan had no idea how glad she really was. "Are you going to the lab tonight?"

Temperance processed the correct answer through her mind quickly. "I was not planning on it. However, if you or someone else needs me to it would not be a problem." To be honest she really did want to get back to the lab. Her wonderful weekend had come to a close and she knew tonight she would need something to do.

"Oh no, of course not. I was just curious," so that she could "offer" to go back with her if she was and then make sure she went home when she was supposed to.

The conversation had been lulled for only a second as their food came to them. The beginning of dinner had gone well, they were grateful for the distraction they now had just in case the short lull became another long, drawn out awkwardness.

"What did you do this weekend?" Temperance was pleased with herself for coming up with the question. Usually it is not something she would have thought to ask.

_Just hacked some people's computers,_ Angela thought silently to herself. She had found it slightly more difficult than she had originally anticipated, but in the end had managed to complete the task and gather all of the information Booth would need. She was all ready for when he called her back. Only now she had leverage to get an answer to at least a couple of her questions. Surely he would understand her need to know. "Nothing really, it was pretty boring."

"Oh," Her and her damn "oh-ing." Sometimes she really wished that she could communicate a little better. She was a highly intelligent woman and certainly had many things to say. The only problem was that she did not know how to say them, nor did she find the need in doing so. Why should people talk if nothing is benefiting anyone? Where is the logic in that?

So they ate in silence for a little while, an occasional comment made or question asked, but it was not the same tense silence that they had between them before. This was just a silence of understanding between the two of them.

They were nearly finished dinner when the shrill of Brennan's cell phone was heard. "Brennan," she says into it automatically. She sits listening to some information for a minute before murmuring something along the lines of, "Yes tonight's no problem," and "There should be plenty of results tonight and the rest sometime tomorrow." She hung up and didn't have the chance to say something until Angela was jumping down her throat.

"What was that about?" Her tone surprised her. She had not expected to sound so accusing and demanding. She quickly reprimanded herself. Just because she was displeased since work had, most likely, just called Brennan in did not mean she had to get snappy and cause her friend to become angry with her again.

"The FBI called. They need some remains examined immediately." Temperance was beginning to feel a growing agitation in her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was her "gut" telling her something, the idea of the FBI and working with them in general, or the food that was causing her stomach to become upset. "Something about a case with some guy named Refton that is being dealt with in an entirely different state."

Angela dropped her fork, looking up at Brennan with a sudden alarm in her eyes. "Refton?" she manages to squeak out.

"Yes," Temperance says as she shoots Angela a strange and slightly concerned look. "Refton. Are you alright?"

The name...It couldn't be. Could it? She'd hacked him. She'd read up on him. She knew what he was capable of doing. Could this be happening? Was it what she thought? Then suddenly every confusing thing that had left her without answers and so angry at one certain man all made sense. There was no doubt in her mind. Brennan had found herself in some serious trouble without even realising it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Gah! I'm more than two hours late with this...In my defense I had a crazy day and this chapter went through some ridiculous editing in the past thirty minutes. So much cutting on this :( I had well over four thousand words, but then I got my hands on it again and chopped off a thousand. Do hope you like it still, and if you want my extra deleted bit let me know and I can PM it to you.. Let me know what you thought. Oh! And I am going to continue to remind you to just stick it out because Booth will be coming in soon. In fact we get some really, really soon so be sure to read it all.**

* * *

The FBI had offered for Temperance to go into the field with them, but she had quickly denied; instead she simply sent Fisher to go. He was competent enough to know how to be sure the body and evidence was unharmed, and also what evidence that was most pertinent to the case and would need to go with them and what was okay to just go with the FBI.

The body arrived at the lab around nine that night and she was fairly certain that she was the only one who was happy to have work at that time on a Sunday evening. She had to admit that, even though she would never return to the field or ever accept any sort of partner again, she was rather excited over this.

The last case had been boring and trite. The murderer was sloppy and was caught and had even given a confession before anyone put him in the interrogation room. This killer, he was smart, he was dangerous. It may be awful, but the thought of it sent tingles of excitement up her spine. She needed something like this right now, she wouldn't invest herself into the investigation process, just her part. Her part was plenty enough.

The cursory examination was completed first, removal of all bugs and particulates, and then boil the bones to clean them and have them ready for a scrutinizing inspection. While waiting she opened the case folder. Refton was a serial killer, after women who had power and control in society. He didn't kill in volume, but in a fastidious brutality. His victims were beaten and tortured to the point that Temperance was sure they had begged him. Begged to stop, to let them go and to kill them. That was what he wanted though, she would bet, wanted to hear the women who were so much more successful than he was beg him. Giving him strength and power over them. Or she could be entirely off. It was all really more Sweets' area to assess such things.

She read of the calling cards he left, the MO he had, Then finally the investigation. Where it had started, where it lead to and where they were now. She read of the evidence they had and knew a conviction would not be the problem when it came to this guy. The problem was finding him. Finally she reached to who the agent in charge was and found herself extremely frustrated to see information blacked out. So much for trying to get a grasp on who she may have to handle once or twice. Depending on how long this case lasted, that is. For all she knew they could give their results on the remains and evidence and that would be the end. After all, she had no involvement in any other areas of investigation, nor would that change, so it could very easily end right there. Honestly, Temperance was unsure of which she hoped for.

"The bones are ready for your examination, Dr. Brennan," Fisher came and told her. She nodded to him and stood pulling her lab coat as she made her way to the platform. She swiped her card and then came face to face with the skeleton. Well, face to skull anyway. Her eyes began searching for the most obvious signs she could see in the body. Anything to help them figure out the identity or cause of death.

"She's given birth," Temperance states and watches as Fisher takes note.

"Ah, yet another life now helpless without his mother to guide him along."

Temperance shot her intern a strange look before deciding to ignore him and focus solely on the bones of which laid in front of her. "From the looks of it I would say she was developing osteoarthritis in her left pelvic bone, suggesting that the age is nearer to the forty year mark as opposed to the thirty." Her eyes found a crack on the left sphenoid bone which lead to the zygomatic. A possible cause of death, but also could just be one of the many injuries sustained.

Temperance tried to look at one injury at a time on a body and once she was done combine them all together and see what the added up to once they were all together. With this body, it was hard to do. The body was covered in injuries. Broken carpals and phalanges, bruises to the bones all along her tarsals. Her ribs were cracked in a very methodical manner and her spine had evidence of trauma. At one point or another the woman was most likely paralyzed. Temperance could be more precise in which way as soon as she looked a little closer. It looked as though someone had twisted her arm so hard they fractured the radius. She also noted what was stab wounds to the humerus.

The bones were so battered that Temperance could only begin to imagine what her body had looked like before all of the flesh had rotted away.

Fisher had dutifully taken notes while she explained all of the injuries aloud. She was grateful that he was the intern for this week as she was not sure if she would be able to handle all of the trivial facts that would surely be pouring from Nigel-Murray's mouth.

"Bren," Angela says quietly as she comes up behind her friend.

"Yes, Angela?" Brennan asks with an impatience. "Is this case related? Because I have only just begun my-"

"It is. Just come to talk to me in my office?"

Brennan looked torn. "If it is about the case can't you just explain here?"

"Please?" Angela knew she had won her over the minute she'd said that.

"Just for a minute," she says as she begins to remove her rubber gloves. "Mr. Fisher, continue examining the bones. Ms. Montenegro and I will be back shortly."

"Another life, mutilated and then diminished to nothing more than plain, white bones laid out for us all to stare at."

Angela made a face as they walked away. "How do you listen to that the whole time?"

"I usually don't," she replies simply. They come to Angela's office and walk in, Angela shutting the door behind them gently, Brennan turns around and faces her. "Well?"

"Brennan, I need you to listen to me."

"I am already listening to you, clearly...This is case related, right? Because if you brought me in here to get me to go sleep then you should know right now that-"

"Bren, shut up a minute," Angela says and it appears to be effective. "Thank you. Now, listen to me." Angela takes a breath, contemplating where and how to start. "You need to stop examining that body."

"What? Angela, that is the most incongruous idea I have ever-"

"I am serious, Brennan. We all need to step away from this case."

"I am hardly even involved at all!" She was simply angry now. What reasoning could Angela possibly have that would actually cause Brennan to walk away?

"I didn't stay step back. I mean step away. Far away. A few good ocean lengths away." Seeing the confused look on her friends face she quickly added, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Angela, no. I don't know why you're trying to do this but the answer is no."

"It's important, Brennan. I'm talking life or death level important." Angela was horribly fearful as to where this could go. What if she said something she didn't mean to? What if this didn't work? What were the odds it would even in the first place? What if she had to bring Booth into this? What would that do to Brennan? How would that effect Booth?

"What? How did you get that, Ange? Who's life or death?" That had caused Temperance to listen a little more attentively. It wasn't just Angela behaving absurdly in order to get Temperance to rest more or something. "Mine? Yours? Someone's at the lab?"

"I can't say."

"If you can drag me in here and demand that I lay off this case then I am pretty sure you can tell me the reasonings to it as well." She wouldn't just back off, couldn't even, not without a good reason. For instance, her life being threatened was not a reason. If it were Angela's then it was a different story.

"I swear, I can't or I would. You know I would." Her eyes were pleading, because she just had to get Brennan as far from this case as possible. Because this bastard had set her up. She just knew he had. Not to mention she could only imagine what Booth would do.

"No, Angela. No, I am not just abandoning that case. I am not just leaving that woman's family without any answers."

"Bu-Brennan, c'mon didn't you hear what I said?" She couldn't do this to her. Before it was bad enough, but now she had to deal with Temperance pretty much throwing herself into the line of gun fire.

"I heard perfectly fine what you said, but I have a victim out there and there is a murderer on the loose. You may be fine with backing down because of a threat, but I am not. Now, if you'll please excuse me I have a lot of work to do."

She turned and left and Angela didn't have it left in her to argue anymore. She knew that all she had to do was say his name and Brennan would back off immediately, but somehow she knew that it was the wrong thing to do. So instead she let Brennan walk away and just prayed that Booth would call her and tell her what to do. Because right now she was failing her best friend.

* * *

"Brennan, please!" Two hours later and Angela was back in the same exact fight. Now her friend was returning to the crime scene. And trying to go without any sort of damn protection! What was she thinking? "You can't just go out there alone. That's insane. That isn't even permitted by the FBI!"

"Fine, I will get some sort of agent to go with me. I need to see the site and I don't trust Fisher enough to go."

"Please, Sweetie, just send someone else. What about Hodgins? Or Cam?"

"Angela, I am just as competent as them. Going into the field for a brief amount of time will not result in my imminent death." Not to mention she'd had a sudden need to simply prove to herself that she could. She would never work another case, or have another partner, but for some reason it had become increasingly important just for her to go into the field. She could not explain it, it made no logical sense at all and she failed to find her personal motivations, but it was strong enough that she wanted to fulfill it. Now she had a reason to as well.

"This is important, Bren. Don't do this to me." Angela could swear she was starting to get an ulcer from all of this.

"It isn't any big deal. I used to go in the field all the time. In fact, that was three weeks ago, and you had no problem with it then!"

"That was with Booth!"

"I don't need anyone to protect me. Besides, I already informed you that I would have an agent come with me."

"You can't do this, Brennan. It's not safe." If only she knew how not safe it really was.

"I am not a child! Stop pertaining to me as though I am. I can care for myself, Angela. I do not need your help, and, if I happen to recall correctly which I am sure I do since I have an impeccable memory, I did not ask for it!"

"I'm your friend, Brennan! I didn't know I needed an invitation to help you. Especially since you have me worried sick."

"Help by just calming down, Ange. I can't handle you constantly breathing down my neck. I was getting along fine before him and will continue to after. Now if you'll excuse me, I am leaving." Temperance turned and left without bothering to utter an actual goodbye. She was tired of all the arguing.

Angela was about to go after her until her phone rang. She glanced at it in hope of who it may be. She could sure use some help with this all right now.

"Booth?" she asked with urgency.

"Yes, Angela," he says and she is surprised how tired his voice sounds.

"Did you hear about-"

"Yes, Angela, yes I did. And no, I can't do anything about it. I'm doing all I can as it is."

"Well maybe you should know that Brennan just left to go to the crime scene," Angela informed him regretfully.

"What? Why in the hell wouldn't you stop her?"

"As if I could, Booth." She was really starting to feel useless in this all. So far she had failed in everything she tried when it came to her friend.

"What do you mean? You're her best friend of course you can!" He felt the need to hop in a car and speed all the way back to DC. Not that it was in any way possible at this point.

"No, Booth, I'm not. I haven't been her best friend in years! You filled that spot a long time ago. You know what else? I hardly know her anymore. Did you know that, Booth? Did you know that I have been such a God awful friend lately that I have completely missed how Brennan has changed and forgotten all of the ways she was before? I don't even remember the last time she and I got together aside from having horrible dinners where we sat in silence and realized how much neither of us are friends anymore! I can't do a single damn thing to help her, Booth. So stop pressuring me!" Angela finally stopped, her breathing haggard and panting. She felt like she was losing her mind right about now. In fact she had probably lost it a while ago when dealing with all of this.

"This isn't about you! This is about Bones and right now she's in trouble," Booth felt bad for Angela, he really did, but at the same time he knew he was right. Bones was who was important here,she was the in trouble. Booth needed to be able to count on Angela to keep her safe. Otherwise he very well may return home now.

"Well then come save her! You just left and dumped me with all of the slack to pick up, and right now it is simply to damn heavy for me to carry anymore. I'm tired already!"

"The slack?" Booth questions incredulously. "What is Bones too much trouble for you now? I'm sure she would be very sorry if she knew how much she was burdening you, Angela."

"Booth, stop. I didn't mean it like that," she said suddenly sobering up in realization. Had she meant it like that? Was she that sick of a friend?

"Screw it, Angela. I'm sorry I put so much trust in you for this. I never meant for it to be so hard on you. I mean sure, Bones is pretty much in some sort of misery and I am only out here getting myself killed, but we're both sorry for the inconvenience of interrupting your busy personal life. Won't dare happen again!"

Angela was glad she hadn't been able to hear the phone slam shut as she was pretty sure it would not have sounded pretty. She was tired and frustrated and honestly did not know what else she could possibly do. Never had she felt so helpless.

* * *

"Hey, I have the results on the-Angie?" Hodgins was all ready to fill Dr. Brennan in on the goo there had been on the victim's earring. That was until he saw his ex-fiance sitting at his boss' desk with her face buried in her hands. Clearly, she was crying.

"I don't know what to do anymore," she admits pathetically to him. She kept her face down, she knew that she must look like a wreck.

"Well neither does anyone in congress, but they sure don't let that stop them."

Angela looks up at him, giving him a bit of an annoyed face with a hint of amusement hidden there as well. "Not the time for your government incompetency jokes, Jack."

"Sorry," he says and takes a step closer to her. "What seems to be the problem?"

"What isn't?" she questions exasperatedly. "Booth's pissed as hell at me, Brennan is out running around when people are trying to kill her, which isn't even that bad since she is doing a very good job of killing herself by not eating or sleeping no matter what I do or say. Then there's the fact that I just seem to be on a roll of constant screw ups lately."

"Whoa, whoa, Angie, you need a breather," he says and rests a reassuring hand on top of one of her that was now splayed out on Brennan's desk. "Everything...Going to be okay."

"Thanks, Hodgins."

"I try. Now, care to fill me in on what the hell has been going on while I was looking into my microscope?"

She laughs a little and somehow they end up on the couch as Angela finally relieves all of the past three weeks on to someone. She'd forgotten how good it felt to have someone to lean on when you needed a little help.


	10. Chapter 10

Temperance reentered the lab a few hours later. She was dirty and tired, but she had acquired just what she'd been looking for. So now, not only did she have the murder weapon, but she also had not been abducted, shot or stabbed. Therefore, her friend's presumptuous worry was completely uncalled for.

When she returned to the lab she was none too surprised to find the place emptied out. Not many of them stayed until after one in the morning. For them starting fresh in the morning would be better. For her it was different.

Brennan stopped in her office to grab a folder only to find Angela and Hodgins fast asleep on her couch. Hodgins' head slumped over and feet up on the coffee table and Angela with her head on the armrest and her feet up on Hodgins. Temperance grabbed the blanket and spread it across the two of them, remembering having that done to her on several occasions. Although she was pretty sure it was someone a bit farther up on the law enforcement food chain than one of the security guards. Someone like Booth perhaps? Because Brennan could honestly not think of anyone else who would come and cover her with a blanket in the middle of the night.

She walked away from her office, flicking the light off as she went, and made her way up to the platform. She stood over the remains that were still on the same table and grabbed the murder weapon as she began to figure out the way it had played out through several hypothetical scenarios in her mind. She worked through the mathematics and velocity and force, combining it all together and working it out to the best she could. Angela could run it through the Angelator tomorrow and check to be sure she had gotten it right.

Next came one of Brennan's very favorite parts. She took each bone, one by one, and examined every minute detail that it held. She found the more minor injuries, the re-calcification on the left ulna, the obvious stress markers of a dancer. Something that, from what Brennan could accurately tell, the woman had refrained from doing as she got older. Perhaps pulled back after she had her child or began her career.

Before she knew it, hours had passed and suddenly the sunlight had started to come streaming in. People began arriving to work just as Temperance packed up and left. She felt productive and content with her work. She was happy with what she had accomplished last night. Especially since she had also placed the tissue markers so that Angela draw a facial reconstruction once she got up.

Temperance had opted for walking home from the lab. One reason being that she had left her car keys in the lab, and she did not want to walk back and get them and possibly be seen by one of her coworkers; the other being that it was not a long way and she enjoyed the calming effects of being alone with just some peace for a little while. Although it was still pretty cold with the winter weather and all. She simply pulled her jacket a little tighter and ignored it.

Her mind was processing through the case as she walked along. The cracking fracture on the skull had been the cause of death, a subdural hematoma proving to her that that was exactly what it was. What she had noticed was the injuries that had been sustained before. It looked as though someone else had beaten the woman as well. Which left the who question left to be answered.

She was nearly home when a sudden and unexpected gun shot rang out. She quickly ducked down behind a car, a moment of deja vu passing through from the last time she was shot at on the street. There was a panic all around her, people screaming and running, law enforcement officers trying to calm and contain everyone on the block. Temperance took the note of the blood slowly leaking from her arm but was still trying to catch her breath when she heard an officer crying out for someone to call an ambulance. She was so calm in that moment, so collected and worry free that she was certain it was not a normal reaction. She had been shot before, this was not how she reacted.

A police officer asked her if she was okay and Temperance knew she would feel very foolish later for not answering him when he asked, but her mind was preoccupied by other things. Angela had been right? Was someone trying to kill her? If so, why? Not to mention, how did Angela know already?

Her thoughts were cut short as she tried to stand, only to have her feet fall from out from under her and her vision to go completely black.

* * *

"Ma'am, for the last time you aren't family. You will have to wait."

"Wait?" she asks as she gets right into the nurse's face. Her impatience was getting the better of her at the moment. "My best friend was just shot and you want me to stand here and freaking wait!" Her voice was in this form of hysterics that she was sure was capturing the interest of many other people in the ER at the moment. At the very least they all got a little show while they waited for their loved ones to come out or to go in themselves to be examined.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I am afraid I can't do anything. A doctor will come talk to you as soon as he has something to say."

"I should be her emergency contact. Look at that." The nurse had done so five minutes ago but certainly she had been wrong.

"Angie, the nurse is just doing her job."

"Just doing her job? Y'know Hodgins from a conspiracy expert I was hoping you would have more to say about it. Like that she was with the FBI and it was a stupid set up!" The last part was screamed right at the nurse.

"Miss, I already told you that not only is Ms. Brennan's emergency contact Seeley Booth now, but I am going to have to ask you to leave if you cannot get a hold of your temper."

"Fine," Angela says. "We'll go wait for someone actually helpful to talk to us." Angela grabbed Hodgins' sleeve and pulls him over to the hard plastic chairs. First pushing him down into a chair and then sitting with a huff next to him. "I think the family only rule is very stupid. Best friends are just as much family as anyone else."

"I know, Angela." Hodgins was still processing all of what he had heard last night, the news had been a lot to take in. Someone was trying to kill Dr. B., Booth was most likely off getting himself killed to keep her safe and now the crazed serial killer had manifested a plan for getting his hands on Brennan. He felt a bit like he was in some sort of soap opera, or at least a prime time drama. He now knew why his self-preservational instincts had instructed him to steer clear of this whole crazy mess. After Booth left Hodgins did what he knew Brennan would appreciate the most. He let her be and did his job. "Brennan's going to be fine."

"She was shot at, Hodgins. The bastard shot her, and they won't even tell us where she was shot. For all I know she could be laying on an autopsy table with a big, fat bullet whole in her forehead."

"Actually, if I were shot in the forehead the likelihood of them performing an autopsy is not very high. Cause of death would be rather obvious I would think," Temperance says as she appears above her twos friends. Her left arm was bandaged up very nicely, her shirt covered with dried blood and dirt.

"Oh thank God, Sweetie. How are you feeling?" Angela looked hesitant over hugging so she settled with placing a hand on Brennan's right arm.

"Unfortunately they insisted on giving me drugs so I can tell my normal perception and intelligence is decreased. Other than that it was just a graze, nothing serious. You worry too much. They say that isn't healthy."

"They?" How very unlike Brennan to use the term "they." Usually she had exact names and proven studies or her own personal opinion to insert. Never just a plain, old "they."

"Yes, the people who study it and such," Temperance evaluated herself quickly, trying to tell if she was any different. "I am sorry if my behavioral patterns are off. The drugs always throw me out a lot."

"Come on, Bren. Let's get you home." Brennan had no objections as the three of them walked out to the car, fast asleep before they had even pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Booth was fighting right now, fighting for a whole hell of a lot all at once actually, but right now most of it was focused on not losing his mind. His sanity was beginning to slip from him. He couldn't give up until Bones was safe though. That was simply necessary to him, essential in everything he did.

Refton was one hell of a bastard and the fact that he had now become fixated on his partner, his Bones, it made him sick. Bones couldn't have just stayed out of this one, could she? It is not as though it was her fault however. Refton was playing her, and he was doing a damn good job at it too. If Booth were not right in the middle of this entire thing he would not have thought much of it himself. If he was just Agent Booth with Dr. Brennan then it would have just of been another decomposed body burnt to a crisp. Now it was a life or death situation, and she did not have a single clue.

Booth still wondered if he had done this right. Leaving her had been an absolute last resort, and he hated himself for it. He whole heatedly believed that he deserved to die for doing that to her. Of all the things Temperance Brennan indubiously deserved, being abandoned yet again was no where on that list. He left without so much as a goodbye. He had taken her out to dinner the night before, studied every bit of her and committed it all to memory the best he could. Just the simplest thought of never seeing her again broke his heart and tore him apart. He wasn't even sure if he could do it when the thought had first come to his mind. He was dead set on finding a different way to handle this, a way that would not include leaving her behind and breaking her heart.

He still didn't know what he should have done. He beat himself up over not doing it differently every day. He wanted to tell her ahead of time, but knew that then she would follow after him and then put herself right into the same danger she'd ended up into now. The idea of that scared him too much for it to be considered. Another thought was to leave her a note. Give no details, but just let her know that this was the last thing he wanted and be sure that she knew he loved her. That he loved her more than she could ever imagine or begin to possibly fathom. That would have hurt her too, though. He could even see her face as she read it. He needed her to move on. To be happy. He wanted nothing more than for her to laugh and live in absolute joy every day.

At one point all he could imagine was one day providing that for her. Making her so damn happy that she would begin to wonder what she saw in that mindset of hiding behind logic and never getting close to anyone. He imagined showing her what true love felt like and making her really understand just what it meant to make love. Ask him before and he would have denied the whole thing, but in his mind he fancied himself the man who would one day be with Bones for the rest of her life. He imagined kissing her and loving her and giving her everything she may want. He imagined that she would be there every night next to him as they fell asleep and then he could wake up and stare at her in all of her radiant beauty.

To him it was just a level of inevitability. One of these days they would fall together and finally a force would be strong enough to keep them there. He had believed that one day that is exactly what would happen. Never sure of the how or when, but it was obvious that one day it would happen. Finally, they would pass that ridiculous just partners area, and he would be able to love her right. Give her everything that he ever wanted to, and if even slightly possible, all of the things she deserved in life. He would give her kids if she wanted kids, he would give her nothing but a loving and true relationship if that was what she wanted. He'd give her the world if that is what she wanted. That couldn't happen now, despite how much he may want it to.

All he could do now was to be sure that she was happy in some way. That she be surrounded by all of the wonderful things he had been trying to show her for five years. All of the love and family and happiness that the world could possibly possess. Even if that meant someone else gave it to her. He wanted for her to fall in love and be happy even though it would be with someone outside of himself.

She had the biggest heart, even if she may hide it from nearly everyone in the world, it was true. She was loving and gentle and was a beautiful and caring person. No one would see that at first, but as people got to know her more it was ever so evident that is exactly what she was.

Ultimately all he needed was for her to live a full, happy life. He wanted to give that to her, and in the end, he supposed this was the only way he could.


	11. Chapter 11

**Oops, I almost forgot to upload this...I remembered though. Reward me with a review!**

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Temperance stirred from sleep slowly, waking to the pain in her arm and a completely dark room. She wondered where she was for a moment, before it became obvious to her. She was in her own room. The blinds were drawn so she was not sure if it was that it had become dark or if it was now only the afternoon. What she was sure of was the feeling of discomfort in her arm. She had suffered many injuries in the past, knew how to keep the pain from getting to her entirely or even effect her a little, so she opted for ignoring it instead of taking the pill that had been laid out, along with a glass of water.

"I see you're finally awake," Angela says as she comes through the doorway.

"What time is it?"

Angela plops herself down beside Brennan on the bed, reclining back against the headboard. "Around four, I think."

"Good, I did not sleep for too long." It was longer than she had for a while though, according to the calculations in her head it was a good six hours of sleep. That for her, even before she had consumed herself in work, was a good night's rest.

"No, Sweetie, it is four in the morning."

"What?" Temperance sits up quickly, a pain shooting through her left arm as she does so, causing her face to involuntarily wince in pain. "I have been sleeping for eighteen hours?" She knew the pain medicine knocked her out but never that much. The last she'd had was at the hospital. It would have worn off long ago.

"Yes," Angela says, her voice laden with sadness.

Brennan interprets the tone in the wrong way which is not very surprising considering the skills she has when it comes to reading people. "I am so sorry, Ange. You could have gone home you know. I hope you did not feel like you had to stay." She really did feel awful. Who would want to sit around her apartment for hours while she slept like a log?

"No, Bren, don't feel bad. Honest, I wanted to stay." Of course she did, for her friend to think otherwise was plain absurdity. Shouldn't she know by now that she was really trying to help Brennan and be there for her when she needed it? Tonight, Angela had felt Brennan needed it. "Hodgins is still here too. Only he passed out on your couch hours ago. I just-" She stopped herself short, thinking that perhaps her intended comment should be held back. After all, Angela knew how defensive her friend could get.

"Just what, Angela?"

"Well, if I am to be honest-"

"Which you should be because saying otherwise would not make any sense," Brennan interrupted by accident. Sometimes it was just something of which slipped out. "Sorry, go on."

"I feel like I must be an awful friend if I have let you get to the point where you are so exhausted that you are dead asleep for eighteen hours." There she said it. She was a horrible friend and now she finally admitted it to someone other than herself. Although Brennan was most likely already aware of this already.

"What? Angela, I don't understand. Why would my poor sleeping habits cause you to be a bad friend?"

"Because, you are having a hard time right now, and do not go trying to deny it, and I should be here for you. Only I don't ever seem to say the right thing or help you in the right way, and I know I am really just bothering you, but I am so damn worried and I just-I can't." Angela stops as the threat of tears comes upon her. She really did not want to break apart just now.

"You're not." Temperance didn't understand, since when did Angela worry about such petty things? She always knew the right thing to do to help someone. Always had such a big metaphorical heart that she just loved anyone who needed it, sometimes that was what a person needed. "I may not be the most acutely tuned to relationships, but what about the evidence?"

"The evidence?" she questions quietly.

"Yes, my hypothesis is that everyone leaves me, that no single relationship is forever bonding and sturdy. Many times has this been proven correct, generating a theory of which I then claimed as a fact. However, it is not fact."

"It's not?" For Brennan to admit such a thing, well it meant something. She had stood by her belief that everyone left and no relationship was forever. Never had Angela known a woman who so firmly believed that she would be alone for the rest of her life. Or someone who was so seemingly okay with that belief

"No, of course not. A fact is something known to be true by actual experience or through extensive observation. I have done both, but you, Angela, have completely disproven that fact. You have stayed with me from the beginning. You have reinstated it as a hypothesis."

Angela had an awe struck look on her face. Never had she expected words like that, well words in that order, to come from Brennan. Brennan did not believe that people stayed with her and loved her, she never even considered it a possibility. Angela had known that very shortly after she had met her. "But all of the arguing and how overbearing I've been..." she stops, letting Brennan do with it what she wants.

"Well that, that has been caring, I suppose. Only right now I view it as unnecessary coddling. You are...Right, I admit regretfully. I have not handled this situation well. I have not meant to take things out on you. I do appreciate your desire to help."

"I-I'm not really sure what to say, Bren." Angela had felt like such a crap hole of a friend these past few weeks that to have someone like Brennan, of all people, to tell her she hadn't been such a thing, it surprised her.

"I was once informed that sometimes words are not necessary in a situation. Sometimes all people need is a touch and to know that someone is there for them," Temperance could feel her own eyes welling up as Angela pulled her into a hug, careful of her bandaged arm. To be honest she had not realized how poorly she must have been behaving towards Angela. She was trying so hard just to stick to eating and "sleeping" enough to placate her that it had slipped her mind completely. Her friend had put in a lot of effort to help her through this and she had not shown the slightest hint of gratitude. It was a wonder she had not been driven away as well. "I am really sorry so much of this has fallen to your shoulders," she says as they pull away. "Is that the anatomically correct place?"

Angela laughs a little and nods as she wipes at her eyes, her refrainment from crying now forgotten. "But, Sweetie, it's nothing like that. I just hate seeing you like this."

"Things will improve." She knows this, it was part of the pattern of it all. "I have been through this before, Angela. I will make it."

"I know that of course, Brennan. But you do know it is okay to show your hurt and to take some time to yourself, to try and recover a bit." The next part she had considered holding back from saying but took this rare moment of open game to go ahead and say what she thought. "Besides, you've lost people before, yes, but you've never lost Booth before."

Brennan winced at the sentence. She'd lost him only because he had left her. The pain of it was still surreal, being numbed by the distraction of her work or pulled away by the momentous encouragement of family and love. It was still gnawing at her though. In a way, it was truly her fault for letting it get to her at all. She did not have the power to stop it. No matter how hard she tried to compartmentalize it away, it would never be enough. Not right now at least. "Trust me, Ange. I know."

"I'm sorry," she whispers quietly, letting the words wrap around them in the darkness.

"Don't," Temperance replies simply. "You are the one that stayed."

* * *

Somehow they had both managed to fall asleep. Only to be awoken in the early morning by a persistently annoying sound of a cell phone. "Arf glimp gil," Angela muttered in her sleep. Her hand flapping around to locate her cell phone.

Temperance on the other hand was awake and alert from the sound. Her eyes wandered around the room before landing on the culprit. She walks over to it, lifting it and prepared to hand it to her friend, but seeing as she was still dead asleep and had been up much too late with Brennan she decided against it. "Angela Montenegro's phone, Brennan speaking," she waited patiently for a response for a minute, hearing nothing but a light static on the other end. "Hello?" she asks in confusion. Suddenly the static was gone, the caller had hung up.

"Who was it?" Angela mumbles with her voice coated with sleep.

"Wrong number I presume. They hung up without saying anything," she says and sets the phone beside Angela. "I find it rather disrespective when people do that. Would it be so hard to acknowledge you had made a mistake in your dialing?"

"No," Angela answers, taking Brennan's roll for a second in answering a rhetorical question.

"I am going to shower now. I missed a full day of work yesterday. I would like to try and get there today." Speaking of which, she still needed to know how Angela knew that this case was going to lead to some sort of disaster.

"Yes, a great idea," Angela's eyes were still extremely heavy and wanted nothing more to slip back shut for a few more hours but felt the strange urge to open them and check to see who it was that called. She groaned slightly, thankful that all of the curtains were still shut from yesterday and were keeping most of the sunlight out. She had a feeling if it was all streaming in to the room that she wouldn't take care of this nagging feeling before dosing back to sleep.

The first thing she noticed was the time, close to ten. Brennan was going to be pissed. Next she hit the necessary buttons to check her calls. There was no name, just a number, probably wrong, as Brennan had so assumed. Angela's gut was not so reliable it seemed. However, when she took a second glance the familiarity of the numbers hit her. She quickly checked back a few calls to see the same number further down. She had everyone that called her programmed into her phone. Leaving open one option, Booth.

She quickly redialed, crossing her fingers that he would pick up. "Angela?" she hears from him and breathes a sigh of relief. She had a bit of filling in to do.

"Hi, Booth. Why are you calling?" Considering how angry he had been last time, she had not expected to be hearing from him again.

"Well, for one I felt bad for being such an unpredicated jerk," he paused for a second and then she heard a scoff. "Unpredicated, I guess the squint speak really sticks with you. Second, you still have some information that I really, really need."

"Oh, wow, I nearly forgot about that." She had too. Things had been so insane. That reminded her that she needed to decided whether or not to inform Booth of Brennan's bullet graze.

"I had yesterday as well since I was too busy being a jackass to you. I really am sorry. You don't deserve it at all. I am just feeling a bit...Hopeless."

"I'm sorry, big guy. I know this is probably harder for you than me."

"It really is." He didn't know if any other pain in the world could rival his at the moment. Except possibly for one. "I broke her heart didn't I?"

"I wish I could say no, Booth. Believe me, I do, but I have to say that she is having a really hard time right now. She's not like herself at all." But last night was a testament to the fact that she may be inching towards healing.

"She sounded just like Bones always did. So pretty and perfect. I missed her more in those few seconds than I thought I could bear."

"He almost got her yesterday," she admits to him. Even if she may not want him to know, as it would kill him just a little bit more, he needed to know so that he could catch and kill the bastard before she could be further harmed.

"Wh-what? Is she alright? I mean you said almost and I just talked to her so she must be-must be okay, right?" His voice was composed entirely of panic and distress. She probably should have reassured him first.

"The bullet grazed her, she had to get a few stitches. Aside from that she's fine. Hardly seems the least bit worried about it to be honest."

"God, sometimes I swear she's going to be the end of me. Thank you, for letting me know, Angela." She could hear the sincerity resonating from his voice. He needed to know. He needed to hear of her being okay and he needed the truth. Angela may not understand the whys or the hows right now, but she knew he loved her. She knew that had not changed and never would change.

"Anytime, Booth. Now I believe I have some information for you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks once again for all of the reviews/favorites/alerts. Remember I love the criticism even more than the compliments so if you have anything please throw it at me! Sorry, if this is too filler-y. We get a look at Booth's thoughts though so that is something, right? Maybe...**

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Someone shot her. _He_ shot her. She had been shot. Unlike Brennan, Booth's brain couldn't process information quite so quickly. Right now it was still trying to grasp what had happened. Should he be surprised by this? No. No he should not, and yet, after what he had been going through these past three weeks, it did, and it sent a river of anger through his body.

Broken deals, meaningless words, completely going back on what had been established. Not as though he should be stunned by it at all. Guys like Refton lied like they breathed. Nevertheless, someone as deceitful as Refton, Booth assumed he would have been a little smarter. However, to Refton, watching Booth squirm like he would now be doing would feel like the sweet victory of control that Refton craved. Leverage would still be held over him, still keep the bad guy in unmitigated control.

Refton was a good shot. Booth had seen it with his own eyes, in fact, Refton was a great shot. If he had wanted to kill her he very well could have. He would not have missed. So that would mean that he did not desire to kill her, yet at least. She was supposed to be in protection, two agents at all time. They would not be able to keep her safe though. No, she would deny it to the point where Cullen would retract it. Even if they were around it would not be enough. Only Booth knew how to keep her safe the right way. Only he knew how to care for her.

God, he missed her so much. Missed her soft, silky hair, her alabaster skin, her rich and beautiful voice. They were what he clung to for now. It was all he had to hold him together. He desired nothing more than to be with her and to hold her and to protect her himself. Not just from Refton, but from any evil force that may manage to come against her. Unfortunately, he was probably the cause of much of her pain right now.

She must hate him. He earned that hatred. She must want him away from her forever and probably wishes that they had never even met. He deserved that because he never even deserved to know her in the first place. He thanked his God that he ever had the chance to talk to her, know her, break down her walls. Doing that may have very well inflicted some of the greatest pain on to her though. He only hoped it would not be so bad that she would never allow any other single soul even a glimpse into all of the torturous thoughts and memories that she held.

His heart over-whelmed with anguish and sorrow for how she must be right now. He wanted to hold her tight and kiss the nightmares away. He wanted to make sure she knew why he had left her, that even though he had it was because he wanted her to live, to be safe. He would sacrifice himself time and time again for her. Because even if it did cause her pain he was much too selfish to ever be the one to lose her.

"I do not care. I refuse it and you cannot do such a thing against my will." Temperance was in yet another argument. The FBI was trying to put her under protective custody. And for what? Because someone tried to shoot her. As if that was something new. "I am not even working with the FBI anymore. I hardly find it necessary for such a thing to be done."

"It's a prevention measure, and if you would so prefer you could always be placed under the protection of the Jeffersonian's guards." Cam had been given strict instructions to be certain that Dr. Brennan was put under protective custody. Apparently whoever it was that had shot at her, a man that was being assumed as Refton which Dr. Brennan would not agree with since they did not have any proof yet, was going to kill her. According to the FBI he was simply deadly, and Dr. Brennan was a prime target. So now it was up to her to try and get the woman to just agree. Cam had to give Booth props for putting up with this before. "Besides you also find it 'hardly necessary' to take your medications after being shot. You have no sort of self-preservation, and considering you are one of the Jeffersonian's most valuable assets we must be certain that you are safe."

"I am a full grown woman. I can protect myself." She had always hated the idea of some protecting _her._ She was strong and capable and needed no such chivalry. Children needed protection, regular citizens needed protection. She was well trained in several martial arts, was an excellent shot and not to mention the four and a half years she spent in the field chasing down murderers. She had been shot at more than once before and would be shot at more than once after this incident as well. She just did not understand why everyone took the whole thing so much more severely just because Booth was not beside her half of the time. She was still capable, they should know.

"It's not a matter of that, Dr. Brennan. I am your boss and I am making sure you are being put into protective custody until you are safe again. Well, as safe as you can be anyway." Pulling the boss card on Dr. Brennan was something she tried to refrain from. She tried to make her her equal since, outside of the social ladder and technical placings, Dr. Brennan was far superior to her.

"I call a freebie."

"That's not how those work, and you are well aware."

"I refuse it. You cannot force me to allow some FBI agents to come along and protect me despite the fact that I do not need it. It is a waste of their time." She was so very tired of people not understanding that some things she did not want. Being an adult and being capable of making rational decisions should be enough for them to accept what she wanted and then simply leave her be.

"They will meet you here before you get off of work." And then she walked away in exasperation. Sometimes she was really positive that she was running a circus. The explosions and clowns did not exactly help with dissipating the illusion either.

Temperance huffed for a moment, already conjuring up a plan on how to dismiss these agents once they got there. This was after Angela tried once to get her to ditch this case. To be honest all of this seemingly secrecy and worry was just making her even more curious on the case. Her logical side chocked it up to being due to the fact that she was investigating something without Booth around. Her gut side said that it was because this was something much bigger than she would ever be able to grasp. That many things were being kept from her, and she really could be in a much more substantial amount of trouble than originally perceived. But usually she preferred to stick to her logical side.

"Mr. Fisher did you gather anything particularly interesting on the green stick fracture on the left ulna?" She knew the answer already, a small test would be performed though.

"A defensive break, someone had been beating her before she was even taken."

"We have no way of knowing that yet. Until we identify our victim we do not know how long she was gone for and we do not know who was beating her or for how long."

"We all get beat every day. Our souls slowly blackened by the despair of such things."

He may be brilliant but this intern really did just say some of the strangest things at times. "Check the first digit distil phalanx again. Try and see if you can figure out that pattern."

"Do any patterns ever make sense? A mesh of continuous actions never ending..." She stopped listening, just walking away from the melancholic ramblings. Her original intentions of returning to her office to work through some things were replaced with a much better idea. Some explanations were still required from Angela.

"Hey, Sweetie," she says as Brennan appears in the doorway. "I'm almost done my sketch so you can confirm it and then we can run it through missing persons." She was automatically assuming the reason Brennan must be there.

"Sounds good, Ange," she walks in and sits down across from her friend. "I have a question for you though."

"Shoot," she says, putting down her sketch book and focusing her full attention on Brennan.

"How did you know?" she asks simply, "About this whole dangerous murderer who wanted to kill me, I mean." Clarification was always best.

"Sweetie..." Damn she had to bring that up now? _Because Booth called me and told me of Refton and his evil, killer ways and, oh yeah, Booth's probably setting himself up to be killed for you right about now. How does Moroccan sound for dinner tonight? _Somehow she did not think that would go the best. "I do know how to put two and two together you know, right?"

"What? Yes...Of course you can. It is four. Only someone who was severely mentally slow or very young could not figure that out," Temperance certainly hoped Angela did not think that she thought that little of her. She knew that she had a very baseline intelligence and was also intuitive on body language and feelings.

"No, I mean like I am capable of figuring something so very simple."

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with math?" People should really be more direct sometimes.

"Forget the math, Brennan. I didn't mean anything to do with math. What I meant is that it was so very obvious that you would find trouble with this case," Angela had to smile with her friend's completely literal thoughts. So very Brennan of her. It was nice.

"No," she says simply. It was not obvious, if it were obvious she was certain she would have picked up on it. "In fact it would appear that I had less of a chance of being hurt considering my aversion to going into the field."

"You read the file, Bren. He's killing successful and powerful women. You're exactly that. You match his MO perfectly."

"Actually MO stands for method of operating so-"

"I just figured it out is all," she says, cutting of the coming rant. She wanted to be sure she was convincing on the matter. Angela had a tendency to get occasionally paranoid when it came to lying. She blamed her father. He had a tendency of always finding out when she was younger, despite how rare of an occurrence it was.

"But you were so very certain. As though there was not a bit of doubt in your mind," Brennan recalls, the intensity of which Angela spoke to her a couple of days ago. "You said it was life or death. Who's?"

"Bren, just-" She hated this. Nothing was harder for her to do than out and out lie to her best friend. "My gut. It was just my gut, okay?" She spoke with such conviction that it surprised even her. Angela did not mean to, she just was not sure if she could continue this charade.

"For future reference a gut is not a reliable source of information and should not be trusted upon so heavily."

"I know," she says simply and takes a breath, preparing for a subject change. "So, are you going to accept the security that the FBI and Jeffersonian want to put you under?"

Temperance gave her friend a stare, one of confusion and wonderment, but shook it off, answering the question that had been posed to her. "Cam has nearly ordered that I do. Although I would certainly rather not."

"Sorry Sweetie, but I must say that I agree with her." Brennan gave her a look of annoyance but slight amusement was hidden underneath, causing a slight smile to flicker on Angela's lips. "Hey, getting shot is nothing to sneeze at."

"I didn't sneeze when...Is that another idiomatic phrase?" she felt a bit proud of herself for figuring that one out without an explanation prior.

"Yes, very good." Angela picks up her sketch, continuing her drawing now that the serious part of the conversation was over. She had to smile with how much more relaxed things were between them at the moment. It was so nice, like a breath of fresh air. She only hoped it would last and continue to progress this way.

"I have a feeling that you are simply patronizing me."

"I thought feelings were not a reliable source?" she teases back. Seeing the sudden defensive look fall on to her friend's face Angela couldn't bite back the laugh that came. She looked the most alive that she had since Booth had left her.

"I did not mean it in that manner, and you are well aware."

"Of course I am, Bren. I just thought a little debate could do you good."

"Very well, I have some calculations I need to go through and paper work that needs to be filled out." Temperance stands from her seat, a little light in her eyes for the first time in a while. "I will see you once you finish the sketch I presume?"

"Of course, dinner tonight?"

"Sounds good," she says and exits the office quietly wandering into her own and sitting down. For once she was actually looking forward to the prospect of dinner. It may take some more time, but she would be just fine. Her eyes fell back on to that file, the one she still had failed to sign, before picking it up and throwing it into a drawer. Maybe it would take a lot of time.


	13. Chapter 13

"I got a hit on our victim," Angela says as Cam and Brennan gather around her computer in her office. "Amy Hudson, thirty-eight and was reported missing by her husband a two and a half weeks ago."

Brennan leaned into the computer, getting a better look of the woman. "Any children?"

"One daughter," Angela says and leans over to the computer clicking a few things and pulling up a picture. "Lila. She's twelve."

" Anything else?" Cam questions.

"Well for starters she was a judge, a very powerful career right there, and two she lived all the way in Minneapolis."

"Any chance she was on a business meeting or some sort of vacation?" Temperance asked, hoping, for her sake, that the body had not been put right near DC for her. That certainly would not help in her case of keeping away the bodyguards.

"No, not in the missing persons report anyhow." Angela could swear she heard Brennan grumble a little.

This meant that the actual crime scene could be in Minneapolis, especially since Refton had a place in which he tortured them first. Most likely he used the same place each time. So the corpse had been driven all the way to Virginia. The bandage on Brennan's arm did not leave much to the imagination when it came to the why part of the situation.

"King of the lab!" Hodgins cries as he enters the office with a broad smile of enthusiasm. It was something he was still commonly mocked for, but the others could not deny that it brought a smile to their faces once he started declaring it again. It had been quite a while after Zack left that he said it.

"What is it that you found, Dr. Hodgins?" Temperance asks and then turns briefly back to her friend. "Oh, and Angela, I agree with your findings. You should call the FBI."

"You may want to wait until I tell you what I figured out." He eagerly leads them from the office and up to the forensic platform, stopping in front of the body and pulling some gloves on. "Fisher here asked for some help for the marks on the thumbs-"

"I was too useless and incompetent in order to figure it out on my own," he interjects sullenly.

"It was thumbscrews!" Hodgins blurts out in excitement.

Temperance walks over, pulling on her own pair of gloves, and lifts the distal phalanx on the right, examining it closely, then switching to the left. "Yes, I see it now. Excellent job, Dr. Hodgins. How did you figure it out?"

"Okay, first off, what are thumbscrews, exactly?" Angela asks trying to get a closer look at the bone Brennan held in her hand.

"It's an ancient torture device in which they would take the thumbs and place them between two metal, spiked rods. They then turn the knob at the top slowly bringing the rods together building pressure and tearing into the thumb." Temperance explained clinically, being sure she gave all of the proper and necessary details in order for one to understand.

"Oh, God," Angela says as her nose crinkles in disgust and slight horror. She tucked her thumbs into her fist subconsciously. "That is sick."

"Definitely explains these markings," Brennan murmurs as she studies it closely, running her finger of the holes. "Along with the splintering of the bones."

"Okay, I'm calling the FBI now," Angela says and turns to leave. "Any other horrific and traumatizing things you need to tell me before I go?"

"I don't think-"

"Rhetorical, Sweetie," Angela interrupts and wanders off of the platform.

"It is indubiously an excellent way to torture someone," Temperance says aloud, her mind imagining the process. The slow and agonizing pain that would occur and the pressure built, the skin torn, the nail punctured and finally the bone broken

"I know I would spill my guts if someone was trying to grind through my thumbs," Cam comments as she speaks for the first time.

"She didn't have anything to, uh, spill," Brennan reminds her as she moves on to the next thumb, the observing process repeating itself. "It was just to make her suffer."

"Even worse."

"Temperance Brennan," a male voice says from the bottom of the steps.

"Yes?" she says turning and finding two men, dressed in required FBI suits with guns obviously hanging from their belt.

"I'm Agent Rembrandt and this is Agent Haricot we're here to-"

"Yes, yes, I know why you're here," she interrupts in an irritable voice. She was tired of them being there already. "I must say that your presence is highly unnecessary. Feel free to leave. I will not tell your boss so you will still get your pay." Perhaps bribery would be enough to lure them away. That all depended on how good of agents they were of course though.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, doctor."

"Fine," Brennan compensates, noting the harsh look Cam sent her. "I must say though that if someone truly wanted to kill me I doubt that you would be able to stop them."

"Doctor, if we may argue, we are some of the best." They had been sent saying that she needed some of the best protection that their office had to offer. The threat? Not enough to convince them of that so to them it was just someone importance of the person, not the severity of the threat.

"If someone wanted to shoot me I am sure they could manage to do so even though you are 'the best,'" she sounded dubious and harsh, but she seemed to lack the patience to correct herself. "All that being the best in your department entails is that you have the status."

"As you say," Haricot says and gives a look to Rembrandt that suggested he ceased his argument.

She felt herself huff as they followed to her office, annoyed so immensely from them very early on. "I hardly see how you're needed while I am at the Jeffersonian. We have excellent security here as it is."

"We really are sorry but these are our orders, and I am afraid we do not go back on them until the order is retracted."

"Stand outside my office then. Make sure that guy doesn't get me," she says gesturing to a particularly skinny scientist who was on crutches and had graying hair. "He is most certainly dangerous." With that she disappeared into her office, thinking of how proud Booth would have been of her joke. Well, she was quite amusing after all. He knew that already though.

Her mind was so tired of fighting Booth off, trying to ignore anything related to him in anyway. She missed him, forgetting all of their memories was not helping either. They would not go away. It made her sad to think one day they might too. Just like her parents, she had tried so hard to forget everything that eventually she did and, now that it was years later, she wishes that she could still remember. They were a part of her, after all. They made her the woman she had become today. So did her times with Booth. He had shaped her, changed her, to forget that would be like forgetting part of herself.

Perhaps now was a little too soon to begin thinking of it all though. The pain that seemed to consume her every time she thought of him warded off the memories pretty well.

She still wanted the answer to her why. It bothered her so badly that she still did not know what had happened, why he had vanished so suddenly on her. Their last time together, it was just like any other time. Sweet and fun and always made her smile. He had been slightly quieter than usual and had touched her a little more that night, but relatively seemed fine. It drove her insane not knowing why he would have left her. At first she had thought the worst, abduction, death, anything. The fact that he would just leave never revealed itself as a possibility to her. When she had discovered that that was exactly what had happened, it broke her heart. He had left voluntarily, he had _wanted_ to. He didn't want her anymore, that is what it all came down to in her mind at least.

The idea of it brought tears to her eyes, pain to her metaphorical heart. Because she had thought, assumed maybe even, that he loved her. Sure, he had said it. Yes, she had thought he meant it. But how easy of a lie it could be. And now she knew that he most certainly did not love her. Because people do not leave those that they love.

Booth had felt his will power dripping away since the very day he had left. Heck, he felt it before that. When he knew it would be the last time he would see his son, or the last time he would see his Bones. It was like Hell being away from them. He wanted them by his side, to hug them tight. He missed them more than he thought he could and wished for them with a strong desire.

At the same time, they were his rock. They kept him where he was and caused him to hold on through this all. They reminded him just why it was that he was there. Because they were so much more important than he was. His pain, his life, it meant nothing compared to them. Because they were the only thing that could ever really cause him pain, and they were the only reason that he lived to begin with.

He chuckled to himself in the darkness. Since when did he get so corny and sentimental? It was good no one could hear his thoughts. His macho-man appearance would disappear in an instant if the guys at the office heard that. Booth didn't even know if he had it in him to deny it either. It was just one of those things he never thought he could dare lie about. It was much too true to do that.

He could still talk to his son for right now. He got to hear about his days and his friends, hear him say that he loved him and lie through his teeth on seeing him soon. Odds were his son would never see him again.

But Bones, his Bones, he did not get to talk to her. He didn't know how she was spending her days, could not be sure she was taking proper care of herself. He didn't get to bicker with her or say things that were loaded with double meanings. He wanted her right now, in any way of which he could have her. Holding her hand, saying her name to her, seeing her smile, hearing her voice, showing her what making love meant, or just talking to her. He would take it all and he would take a single bit of it. But his promise held him back from calling her. Though he would not care to admit how many times he had dialed her number, desperately wanting to hit that button. It took all of his strength not to. Remembering that her happiness outweighed his by far.

His eyes closed and his head laid back against the wall. Finally feeling tired enough to slip into sleep. Of course it was then that the door squeaked open and a sliver of light slipped in. "Hello, Agent Booth," a chilling and deceitfully friendly voice said softly.

He gave the man no such satisfaction of words. Just a glare that he wished was rough enough to be able to put him in the place he truly belonged.

"The silent treatment?" he questioned menacingly. "A bit immature, don't you think, Agent Booth? I do not think your dear partner would approve."

He winced at the mention of her. It was the first time this man had brought her up, many times they had spoken in the past three weeks and he had yet to it bring up himself.

"Hm, well I suppose looks are just as telling as words. Wouldn't you say so?" He was met with silence yet again. "I suppose I will simply have to prove my theory."

Booth gathered himself together for this. Military training had taught him to stand strong to this sort of torture. He would need to remember it all. Take the words and document it as clues, never take anything to heart.

"Did you know she had been shot, Agent Booth?"

He held his breath, keeping his gaze dead straight ahead.

"I am sure you do. You like to use that cellular device. I would know, after all." That raised a question in his throat. It ached to be asked but was bit back down for what else may slip out with it.

Booth felt like grumbling for the man to go away. He had been close to sleep, and it was interrupted for this uselessness? He did not care to have another one of these conversations again.

"Your silence is frustrating you should know."

That nearly made him smile. Good, the bastard deserved to be as infuriated as possible. The idea of where that infuriation could lead horrified him though.

"Perhaps I should ask you some questions you cannot refrain from answering," he said as though trying to decide himself on whether he should or not. "Yes, yes, doesn't that sound like a fabulous idea?"

Booth was curious if this was one of his irrefutable questions. If so, they were not going to be a problem.

"That Dr. Brennan of yours," he starts and Booth feels his entire body stiffen in horror. Damn this guy for being so good. He knew just how to get to him, of course if anyone paid attention it should not be all that difficult to figure that out. "She is why you are here, isn't she?"

He kept his stone face. He and Refton had discussed this previously. A trade off between the two of them. He felt a need to call him out on his lie.

"Hm, I suppose that is something I am already aware of. A reasoning to this would be nice."

_Because she doesn't deserve what you dish out. Because she's too amazing to not be in this world. Because I love her. Because _I _need her in this world. Because I am selfish._

"I should be more direct. You love her, do you not?"

_Yes._ "No." Apparently he could deny it. This would help keep her safe. Lie. Make this man believe she was nothing to him. Then she may just possibly be safe.

"No?" his voiced seemed surprised, yet unbelieving at the same time. "Why would a man sacrifice his life for someone he did not love? It is a romantic gesture, isn't it?"

"Duty," Booth states simply. As if he would do this for duty alone. There were other ways to perform such a thing than this.

"Duty?" he laughed, low and malicious. "You're dying out of simple chivalry? Why, I doubt that."

"She's a woman. My old man raised me to respect women." His old man raised him to beat women actually. Pops raised him to respect them, love 'em right and hold 'em tight. The distinction hardly seemed necessary.

"I do not find that fair. A man to die just because he has a built in mechanism to protect the women around him."

"I think it is plenty fair." Fair to who, raised a different question entirely. He may have the wrong motivations in a way, simply refusing to live in a world without her. He wanted her to be happy. Fall in love, smile, laugh, live life to the fullest, rebuild her relationship with her father and brother, so much for her to live for. Her brilliance offering so much to the world as well. Giving soulless bones names and faces, bringing life back to the dead. She changed the world in a way only few could.

"Women are inferior, below us entirely. Did you know that, Agent Booth?"

He switched back to his silent stand. No way he would even address such a question. He feared that it would begin a defense he would be unable to hold back.

"Very well then. I do not find your reasoning fitting at all."

"We have a deal," he chokes out.

"I am a murderer," he says, pointing out the obvious. "Do you honestly believe that I have any sort of sanctity for sticking to my word?"

"You can't go back on it." Refusal, denial, he would not allow it. She would be kept safe. End of story.

"I already have. You know that. Dying for duty? How pathetic."

"I'm not," he back pedals, trying to confess his truth. "Of course I love her."

"Too late now I believe." He raises some sort of hard, blunt object. It was too dark for Booth to make out entirely. "I can lie right now. Certainly not you."

He wanted to continue his argument, make him comprehend his reason as to why she should not die, but suddenly darkness consumed him. He could fight no more.


	14. Chapter 14

**Oops, sorry guys, this is a day late isn't it? You can blame my memory for that one. **

* * *

"It will help you sleep. Just take the pill, Sweetie," Angela argued in the most logical manner she could. It was nearly eleven at night when Brennan had agreed to go home. One agent sat outside her apartment and the other was right outside her door. The only person who would be getting into her apartment tonight was Spiderman. Angela was still contemplating on staying the night or not. Unsure if her friend would need her or if she would be okay. Angela knew that Brennan would not say anything if she did want her to stay. Causing Angela to try and figure it out on her own.

"I have basic suturing in my arm from a grazing bullet wound," she reminded defensively. "Medication is hardly necessary."

"Sure," Angela begins with agreement. Quickly defusing the thought from Brennan's mind that she had won as soon as she saw the somewhat smug look on her face. "You may not need it for the pain. Sleep, however, is definitely necessary."

"I don't want to oversleep again," she finally admits part of her reasoning of denying the medicine.

"You have worked more in two weeks than most people do in two months. I think you have earned a little over sleeping."

"Most of the time," she begins quietly, looking to the floor in shame. "It gives me nightmares."

Angela gave Brennan a sudden understanding and unintended pitying look. "I understand, Bren. I really do. But..." she fades out when she comes to a loss of words. Which was the greater evil, nightmares or another sleepless night, is really what it came down to.

"Fine, for tonight only."

"Thank you," she whispers and gives a gentle smile.

"Under one condition, of course," Brennan says as though it should have been completely obvious that there would be some form of a catch.

"Which would be?"

"Go back to your place tonight."

"I suppose that is fair," Angela agrees. After all she was beginning to feel the exhaustion of this all. She needed her sleep. She liked her sleep too.

"Good," Temperance says and swallows the pill without bothering to use the glass of water that had been set out for her. Something that causes Angela to curl up her nose. "I will see you tomorrow morning at work."

"Not too early, right?" she questions, trying to sound nonchalant even though she was willing to fight it if necessary. She only hoped it would not be.

"Not before seven," Temperance confirms. As though Angela would be there before that time anyway. Although the medication may truly keep her asleep for a very long while.

"Seven it is then." Angela gathers her things only to drop it at her feet and pull Brennan into a tight hug. "Take care, Sweetie."

"I will, but Ange."

"Yes?" she asks with curiosity when hearing the near amused tone in her friend's voice.

"It is only for part of a night," she points out with a light smile. It had been so long since she and Angela had been so close. It made her feel safe and happy when she remembered this friendship they shared. Something that seemed to hold steadfast through so much.

"I worry," she explains simply. With that she grabs her bag and coat before waving a hand over her shoulder and disappearing through the door.

Temperance could already feel the effects of the medicine as she began to strip out of her work clothes and fall into bed. It was welcoming for once, wrapping her in it's security and comfort as she dosed off quickly. God, since when did she sleep like this?

* * *

Things were hazy and strange as her body seemed to return to consciousness. A strange and sudden pinch to her arm awoke her. It was dark still and she felt a coldness in her body. It seemed that her covers had vanished and next she knew there was a hand. It clamped over her mouth, blocking her from screaming or even taking a proper breath. She was lifted swiftly and suddenly, and she felt a panic arise from somewhere within her. It caused her to try and fight against her assailant with great ferocity.

Suddenly there were dim lights and she was no longer indoors. Sky, stars, light clouding, her eyes subconsciously searched for Delphinus. It was habit and for some reason her sense of urgency faded away. Being replaced with calm as she was dragged along a street. Then there was a car. It was a nice car. Very shiny and, most likely, very fast. It was small, but big enough for her to lay in at least.

Her eyes caught on to a crumpled figure in a corner near her apartment building. Booth. She managed to recognize it immediately. All of a sudden her calmness was very apparent to her. How she did not understand it before she was unsure. All of the evidence clearly pointed to just what it was. Why, she was dreaming of course. The medication had caused this nightmare.

It was not a very good one. She had seen many more awful things and had lived through many more traumatic experiences than a simple abduction. Surely her subconscious could do better than this. Sweets must be wrong. This was definitely not two-thirds of her unused brain being put to work. She would be awfully disappointed if it was.

She was heaved into the back seat. Someone said something to her, but she was slipping back into oblivion too much to decipher the words. This calming movement began, it was lulling her to sleep even more. Her eyes had shut long ago, and she nearly laughed at her previous fear of the nightmares that the Vicoden could have brought on. The fear had clearly been irrational considering she was not even feeling slight effects of what the nightmares usually brought. No screaming or thrashing, not even the slightest feeling of urgency was in her. She was content as she drifted back to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Booth awoke slowly, surprised to find himself laying flat as opposed to his previous sitting up position that he had been sleeping in for God only knows how many nights. The floor was cold and hard. Possibly more uncomfortable than the chair had been before. He noticed the dull pain in his back. He ignored it as he opened his eyes. There was light. He was not used to the light being there when he awoke. It was always dark. So dark that he could hardly make out a single thing in the room. He could barely even distinguish how big the room was, where it was, anything. All he knew was darkness. So finding the light, although still somewhat minimal, pushed him into confusion.

Next he heard a sound of something that had not been heard in a very long time. A car engine, it drove by him and he felt suddenly more aware. Outdoors, he was not in any sort of room. He was outside, near a road, and a...Street light. Yes, it must be a street light.

Bones. He was suddenly wide awake at the thought of her. Quickly, Booth pulled himself off of the ground and began to assess his surroundings. Dizziness over took him as he fell back against a wall. Holding on to it for support before his knees could crumple below him. He looked below him to see blood. His blood, he was sure. The wetness against his face gave him his answer. A concussion, certainly that much at least. He would need sutures and bandages but right now none of that mattered.

Booth tried to breathe in deeply, only to be met by a pain in his chest. Broken ribs, Bones could tell him which ones exactly. Those would not hold him back either of course. He pushed himself off from the wall and it became quickly apparent that he was directly in front of Bones' building.

He spotted a cop car. Incompetent agent must have fallen asleep. There was only one which meant the other must be upstairs. Surely Bones was safe. Until he could see otherwise, he would refuse to believe any sort of harm could have come to her.

He walked to the cop car, tapping on the glass. He expected for the man to stir and meet his eyes but he did not so much as flinch. Booth tapped harder, only to see the blood stains in the car. Next he knew his legs seemed to begin moving faster than he could think as he dashed into the apartment building and up the daunting amount of stairs. The elevator did not seem like a possibility as his mind processed the idea of standing their helplessly as it went upwards.

His lungs burned from the effort and surely his back must be in agonizing pain. He failed to notice it all as he finally came to her floor. There was no agent outside of the door, whether that was good or bad, Booth had no clue.

The door was unlocked, no one had bothered to lock it before leaving. He had no weapon, or any common sense to begin with, so he simply made a run for her bedroom, finding nothing but another dead agent. No Bones. Not anywhere. He had gotten her. Taken her from him. And now, now he would kill her.

* * *

Angela was disoriented as she made her way to the door to her apartment. It was late, or early perhaps, was the most her mind had registered as she reached for the door handle and yanked it open. The sight that met her eyes caused her brain to begin to run a mile a minute, hardly a single thought processed properly.

Booth. Brennan. Refton. Captured. Information. Gone. Left. Tears. Bullets. Fear. Brennan.

Her blood ran cold as she stared at him. Her mouth fell open with shock at the sight of his face. He was sweaty and had this look in his eyes, panic and horror indubiously, that caused her to suddenly feel a rush of adrenaline go through her. "Brennan?" a strangled, horrid voice whispers out.

"Gone, " he says and he feels a sob choke his throat and a pain so deep that he thought it may pull him down to his knees. "She's gone."

"I just saw her," she denies with assurance in her tone. "She is fine, perfectly fine."

"God, I wish, Angela" His hands come to his face, as though to hide it in shame. Angela jumps as he lets out a scream of frustration, hitting her wall hard enough to leave a crack through it. "I was supposed to protect her."

"We all were," she says and begins to dial numbers. Hodgins, for comfort. Cam, for direction and help. Booth needed to call the FBI, get a search going. They needed to go over everything they knew and apply it best they could. Angela would make Brennan proud by remembering to think rationally. As well as someone like her could in such a situation. "C'mon, Booth," she says to him quietly. "Do what it is that you know needs to be done."

His senses suddenly become alert. He was not going to fall apart while she was out there, being tortured and in preparation for death. No, he would do what he always did. He would save her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for the continued support. Including my anonymous reviewers who I never get to thank personally :) This is where I started thinking everything I wrote was simply awful. We all get there at some point don't we? Enjoy! (Or don't. I guess I can't control you on that one.)**

Everything was blurry as her eyes opened. It was dark, so very dark. How'd she get there? Where was she to begin with? None of it made sense. Her brain was blank on anything that could give her answers. The dream. Oh god, the dream must have been reality. How could she have...Drugs. Obviously, the Vicoden was not strong enough to delude her to that point. Someone must have drugged her with something much stronger for such a reaction to occur.

If not for the throbbing pain in her head she may even still believe she was asleep. At the moment, things failed to make any sort of logical sense. Something of which, of course, caused her to be very agitated and even more disoriented.

She tried to go over what it was that she could remember, but she felt the same sort of helplessness that had occurred in New Orleans when she had lost her memories of an entire day. She just could not recall what it was that had happened. Just the vague fact that it had occurred. Nothing specific, nothing that could help her in any way. Just the fact that it did indeed happen. Booth...Hadn't he been there? Wasn't that why she had felt such an assurance in the fact that she was having a nightmare? Because Booth had left her. He was no longer there to protect her. How could he be anywhere but in her dreams and memories? If it had been him then that assembled a whole other line of questions.

"Ah, Dr. Brennan." Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice, a male voice. He sounded pleased and angry at the same time. It was the kind of voice that sent a shiver down her spine. "You have no idea how long I have waited to lure you out here."

"You did not lure me," she explains slowly. Eager to correct his obvious vocabulary mistake. "Luring would mean you had deceived me into coming here of my own free will, whereas you drugged me and then proceeded to abduct me to this...Place."

"You really are just how I thought you would be," he swipes a finger under her chin, slow and lingering, like a lover. He had the hands of a killer though. She felt a desire to bite his finger in that moment. A few inches up... "Only more beautiful."

Sick, the idea of it spawning from his mouth made her sick. The last person who had called her beautiful was Booth. He said it with love and conviction. Not this twisted and perverted manner of which this man was saying it.

"You're much more beautiful than all of the others."

"You are just like all the rest of my victims," she tells him plainly, nearly laughing at how his face coated with shock.

"Do you and I share more than I thought, good Doctor?"

"My victims are the ones who go to jail."

"Ah," he says with realization. "Victims of your beloved justice system."

"I prefer the death penalty." Aside from when it was her father of course. Then again, even if she may not be a judge, perhaps she did make her own judgments on what should happen to their killers. She knew that Booth drew the comfort of knowing that individual would rot in Hell for all eternity. Due to her unbelief in the afterlife she received comfort in the fact that that person was gone from the earth forever, could never cause harm to another being ever again.

"My, my, Temperance, you are so feisty." She hears him preparing something in the corner of the room. The sounds of metal clanking against one another. _He wants to hear you suffer and beg. Offer him no such satisfaction. _"I like it. All the more wonderful when you begin to beg."

Fear, she may not admit to it, may not even experience it in many occasions of which others would, but right now it coursed through her veins so strongly that she was certain it vibrated through the room.

She knew she would be beaten. She knew she would be raped. She knew she would die. These things were accepted very quickly, after all there was no logic in denying the inevitable. There was no hope and, more so, there was no faith.

Booth could tell he was not in his normal state of mind. He felt distant and fuzzy, yet that had no effect of holding him back in doing what he could to help her. His body begged for sleep and Tylenol, but somehow he kept himself going. He wasn't sure if it was the coffee or the adrenaline or the sheer fact that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had to find her, that kept him going. What ever it was though, he clung to it. Trying in a fruitless attempt to solve this puzzle. Unfortunately, he had never been very good with puzzles.

He felt the same helplessness that he had when she was taken by the Gravedigger. There was a clock that was ticking and time slipping through his grasp and he couldn't do anything about it. He could yell and scream and threaten, yet it had not changed anything. Had it not been for Brennan and Hodgins' genius, well, the outcome would not have been good. The thought of losing her, it killed him inside.

Right now Hodgins was running tests, Cam was reexamining the body and Angela was doing some sort of trail on her computer. To him it was like there was nothing to do. He wanted nothing more then to run into the gunfire and save her. The only problem was he didn't know how to get to her. She was somewhere, God knows where, far away from him, and he had no way of knowing how to get to her or to save her.

She was Temperance Brennan for Pete's sake, Bones to him, she hardly needed saving to begin with! The fact that this was one of those few times where she did indeed need him to help her and he could very well fail at it...He hated it. He hated himself all the more. It was his fault that this all began, wasn't it? He was the one who investigated the case. He was the one trying to protect her in some manner. He was the one who practically lead Refton straight to her. He was a fool for falling for any of it. His own ridiculous ideas and schemes would end in nothing but punishment for her.

"Stop beating yourself up over this, Seeley."

Figures she would know what he was doing at a time like this. They'd been lovers before but now they were friends. There was a connection and an understanding between them. Somehow they had developed this ever so sensitive comprehension of the other. So of course Booth was not even minimally surprised that she had found him and was already reprimanding him for the actions he had not even had the chance to deny or confirm.

"This is not your fault."

He scoffed, more to himself then to her. _As if._ Who else's fault could it be? He had been the one to screw up here. He was the one who had done all of the damage. He should have killed Refton when he had the chance, whenever that may have been.

"I should have been here to protect her," he admits quietly. As though she was not already aware of this herself.

"You thought you were protecting her," she reminds him gently, stepping closer to his still and silent self. "You went about this the best way you could."

"I _left_ her, Camille." The very thought of it punched a hole in his heart. He had left her. He had betrayed her despite the promise he had made, although it may have been in a slightly drunken stupor, to never do such a heartless thing. He had lied to her. Chills ran through his body with that thought.

"You were trying to keep her safe. Parker too, don't forget, and everyone else at the lab." Her hand fell on to his shoulder in a comforting manner. "You had the intention of just trying to protect us all." A short laugh falls on to his ears. "Forever the chauvinist, Seeley."

"I let her down."

"Then make it right."

His head picks up at the words, as if he had not thought of them before, when in reality he had been sitting there for well over an hour trying to do just that. He didn't know how.

"I-I don't..."

"We're all here to help you. The weight of this is being carried by more than just you." She offers him her hand, a simple gesture of help which meant more than could meet the eye.

"Did I hurt her?" he asks quietly. Agony pouring through his voice at the question. Because the very idea of it tore him to pieces and left him in some sort of agonizing pain.

"Yes," she tells him truthfully, ignoring the deep pain that resided on his face from the word. "But now you have the chance to keep this Refton guy, whoever he may be, from killing her."

"And if I let her down again?"

"Whoever said that was an option, Seeley?"

He smiles at her briefly. "Don't call me Seeley."

"Don't call me Camille."


	16. Chapter 16

**Let me just start off by saying I'm sorry. This is filler/mundane story back round-ish stuff. Good news? Sweets finally makes an appearance. Thanks to all of you guys again. The fact that you just bother to read in the first place is good enough for me but feel free to leave a review if you feel so inclined to!**

* * *

They were gathered in Angela's office, all having abandoned their separate projects to form together and work this out as a team. At the moment all eyes were turned on one, Booth, waiting for him to speak.

He stood silently, trying to gather himself before he said anything. It was obvious that he was exhausted and worn down. Booth was well aware that he looked, and most likely smelled, like a complete mess. At this moment in time though, he did not care in the slightest.

"I got here as fast as I could," a sweaty and out of breath Sweets says as he enters the office. His nose curled up in disgust. "Something in here smells wicked."

Most certainly, in that case.

"Probably you," Hodgins retorts as he gives Sweets a once over. "What, did you run here?"

"Just from the parking garage," he explains as though it makes absolute sense.

"Do you ever go to the gym?"

"Okay, I don't think _this,_" Angela gestures between the two bickering men, "Is our biggest problem right now."

"Right, sorry," Sweets amends quickly. "So what happened? And when did you..." he trails off as he sees Booth for the first time in the room. Sweets did not know what had happened or where Booth had gone. All he knew was that he was told to cancel out all of his appointments with Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth from that day until, well, pretty much forever.

"Maybe we should all just back off and let Booth talk," Cam suggests, giving him an encouraging glance, both for his sake and her's, to say something.

"I don't even know where to start," Booth admits quietly, seemingly unaffected by the bickering occurring with everyone else.

"From the beginning would be the best, Agent Booth," Sweets says in his "psychiatrist voice."

Angela shoots him a glare. "Not the time to study him."

"Do you have any idea where you were?" Hodgins is the first to begin with the questions, offering help by giving Booth something specific to talk about. Also, perhaps if he knew how far they had driven along with the particulates in his shoes would be enough to target a general location.

"Just that it was dark. All the time," his eyes go a shade darker as he thinks of the room and everything in it. "There were no windows. Not even curtains and blinds could make it that dark all of the time."

"How did you call me?" Angela asks with curiosity filling her voice. In all of the scenarios of the hows and whys of it all, she did not think of him being held captive. What captor lets their victim make phone calls?

"This is where it gets...Complicated."

"I'm sure," Sweets murmurs, staring so intently that Angela couldn't help but smack him across the arm to pull him out of his studying trance. He mumbles a quiet "ow" while rubbing his arm.

"I didn't go there because he captured me, in fact I was there to capture him," he says slowly, trying to process his next step to the story best he could.

"Where is 'there,' exactly?" Hodgins asks, interrupting at his own risk.

"Georgia. I was supposed to be leading him away from here, the Jeffersonian, and straight into a trap." Booth had thought it was a rather fool proof plan. It would have gone off perfectly, aside from the whole planned self-sacrifice thing, only it turned out Refton was actually a pretty smart bastard after all. "Only it seems that he led me to a trap first."

"One step ahead," Sweets comments. Angela suddenly felt some regret in calling him here. The kid talked too much in times like these. "Just as I figured."

"For a good two weeks things were going fine. Everything was going to plan."

They stayed silent, something which unnerved Booth some. The squints were most certainly not known for being quiet.

"That is until he managed to capture me."

"If you don't mind me asking," Sweets interjects. "How did he manage to take you? I saw his picture. You could _so_ beat the crap out of him."

"Didn't I mention the bastard is smart?" Booth paused, waiting to see if anyone had anything to add before continuing on. "The guy drugged me up so much I was passed out until I woke up in some dark room tied to a chair. I barely even remember being dragged from place to place."

"But you didn't start talking to me until two weeks after you left," Angela reminds him, still awaiting an answer on his question.

"Yes, and that is because although Refton is smart he definitely does not have a future in computer programming."

"Which is where I played in," Angela says aloud as her mind connects the pieces. She wondered why he had not called her before, why he had been so persistent on cutting everyone out as soon as he left.

"Yes, he gave me the phone when he felt I needed it. Said he would leave Bones alone if I got him the information he needed."

"Wait," Cam stops him suddenly. "What exactly is this information the two of you keep talking about?"

"Refton's file," Booth says simply. "There was classified stuff and all of the information he needed to stay one step ahead of the FBI."

"In the promise of Dr. Brennan to remain completely unharmed?"

"Yes," he tells them and a sad gleam comes across his eyes. "That was until she got shot. Then he just promised not to kill her."

"But Booth, all of things you said I mean what if-"

"The phone was tapped?" he asks and gives her a small smile. "I thought of that."

"But how you kept talking about Brennan and the way you said things..." she trailed off quietly. That's what could have led him right to her.

"First of all, Refton isn't good enough with electronics for that. Now, could he have hired someone to do it? Yes. I knew what needed to be said though. I couldn't...Once I started...When I thought of her," Booth fell silent suddenly. _Damn Seeley, what kind of FBI agent cries in front of the squint squad at the Jeffersonian? Get yourself together._

"I understand," she tells him, switching into a comforting mode immediately.

"Think of the time while you were there," Cam suggests, trying to get him back on track. "Do you remember anything specific? Anything that could help us? Nothing's too small, Seeley. You of all people know that."

"I know. I know," he says as he puts on his macho shield again. "It was small, and cold. Always cold. When he came in sometimes there would be light and sometimes there wouldn't."

"Suggesting it was a small building outdoors," Hodgins throws into the story.

"And the walls were strange, not wood or concrete or anything usual, and there were steps, up or down I'm not sure, leading to the place." Booth can recollect it all in near perfect detail, he was there for over a week after all. His mind just kept screaming at him that this wasn't going to get them anywhere when it came to finding his Bones. His gut knew, was really the only was to describe it. She was somewhere that he needed to find, and somehow would find. He just didn't know how. "I need to go..." Booth fades out and just walks from the room.

The pressure was building, falling on to his shoulders so strongly it was a miracle he didn't crumble from the weight of it. He finds himself outside, the frustration and anger amounting greater and greater. The adrenaline was rushing, begging him to take some form of action. All of this, the thinking and the rationalising and the collecting evidence in objective worth, that was Bones' territory, not his. Booth couldn't do this stuff, he didn't know how. He stood there, the cold wind whipping against him causing pain and goosebumps to grow across his skin, and he knew. He knew that he was failing her.

**Gah, it's worse than I originally thought. Really sorry!**


	17. Chapter 17

**This is late and considering that it has been written for weeks there really is no reason for it. There's been a lot of personal stuff going on the past few weeks so I have been a bit absent minded. I do not anticipate for it to happen again but if it does feel free to message me and give me a wake up call.**

* * *

She hurt. That was the one thing that she was most of aware of in that moment. Her entire body ached, from stiffness, from the beatings and from when he had raped here moments ago; it all added up, hurting her more and more as time went on. She laid against the cold floor in agony, long ago giving up fighting him.

Temperance felt as though she was a teenager again, small and cowering as her foster father would tower over her. He took control and she was completely powerless against him. He could pin her to a wall or just throw her to the floor. Her mouth would be covered or her screams ignored and he tortured her. And no one cared. No one reacted, no one helped. Being here, completely alone without so much as a sliver of hope, left her with that same feeling. Useless, stupid, weak, broken, damaged goods, what ever they called her, what ever they chose to do or say, it had the same effect. It left the same mark.

She held back from giving this monster of a man any sort of satisfaction of screams or cries. She choked back her whimpers and resisted yelping in agony. That helped her to feel just a little bit of her strength again, remind her she was in control of something.

She was accustomed to being in command of everything, from what she did to who she was, this small bit of control was all she had left. Because he had domination; he would regulate her every action from here on out. From this moment till her death.

Death was savory at this time, the idea of it sounding so sweet and releasing. Temperance Brennan had never once considered herself weak enough to fall victim to something such as suicide, and the thoughts she was having now fell to that category indeed. Was it wrong to not want this anymore? Was she weak for being so enervated already? She just desired for the inevitable to be completed soon.

Temperance wondered what those other women felt like, if they wished to die, if they passed out, if they hated this man with such passion they could feel it running through their veins. She pondered the idea of what course of action they chose when he hurt them. Did they think of other things, did they scream and beg, did they try and put all of their focus on to being strong. She contemplated on if they thought they would be rescued, if they had hope while they were slowly dying. If so, when did that hope fade away? Was she a pessimist for having no hope at all? Or was she simply a realist?

Certainly fantasies did invade her thoughts from time to time. God knows she certainly did have time as she lay there in silence for hours upon hours. The scenarios changed and shifted. In some all she desired was to die, thought of the ways he would kill her. In others she focused on the thoughts of being rescued from this retched place. Booth, she desired for him to be here. She wanted him to hold her, to talk to her, to simply be Booth. She had to admit, albeit in absolute shame to herself, that she had the strongest avidity for him that she had ever felt before inside herself. She longed for him with such a ferocity as she laid there in pain and near delusion. Longed for him more than she had ever before.

Most commonly when she was in situations such as this she would find herself waiting for him to come and save her from the imminent danger. He never let her down, never allowed for her hypothesation to be incorrect. He always showed up, always would be there to help her in what ever way she needed. From Thai food to guy hugs. He was her constant.

The past few weeks had been such an adjustment to her. She was unsure of how to react or what she should do. Normally in such a traumatic experience, Booth would be the one who she would turn to. Of course she could handle the situation on her own. She was perfectly capable of processing the information and handling everything with an entirely logical mind. She would compartmentalize and go through the motions, and then she would be fine again. Her metaphorical walls and defense system a bit stronger and higher, but she would be okay. Booth was the one who would cause her to see things with her heart, to realise that love played apart in all actions, in fact love was what seemed to cause these actions to take place most times. Or at least so it seemed from his perspective. He made her not push everything away and to process information in a different manner. He made her human.

So needless to say, getting through these difficult circumstances without Booth, it broke her more than she thought she could be broken. Her walls had been built long ago for a reason, but Booth had broke through. Tore them down and slipped in so close to her. He was the only one who really had any power over her and he had never used it for evil, never had until he left her. That was the most evil action he could do against her.

* * *

"I've got something!" Hodgins declares with excitement as he comes storming into Angela's office, where both Booth and Angela were at the moment.

"You know where Bones is?" Booth asks with desperation and hope, so strong Hodgins hated telling him otherwise.

"I don't," he admits trying to muster his excitement back up. "However, I do have something to help us find her."

"Care to embellish?" Angela asks while giving him a meaningful look. One that very clearly read, "get on with it already!"

"Wherever you were and wherever his other victims were, two totally different places." He gestures for Angela to move, taking her place at the computer and lowering her screen and then bringing the one he needed up. "Here," he says and one box appears which showed some land with one part of it encircled in red. "Is where Amy was taken." He minimizes that box and brings up another, one that had a much smaller circle. "And this, this here is where Amy was kept."

"Okay..." Booth replies with a lack of enthusiasm.

"This here," he goes to the first box, "This is Minneapolis. Where as here," he goes to the other screen. "This is Virginia."

"Yeah," Booth says with irritation colouring his tone. "Amy lived in Minneapolis and had her body dumped in Virginia so Refton could get closer to Bones."

"Amy did live in Minneapolis, but she also was tortured before she was dead. She was tortured right here," Hodgins says pointing to a circle close to being directly above where Amy's body had been found.

"What does this mean for Brennan?" Angela questions as she stares at the screen, her gaze becoming unfocused and distant.

Booth knew what it meant, the significance it held. It meant they knew where he kept his victims, where he raped and totured and eventually killed them. They knew where that was, and Brennan was in the midst of rape and torture, from him. She could be there.

"That we have somewhere to look for her," Hodgins replies and they turn and share a smile, Booth already in the corner calling the FBI.

* * *

Booth was out of the car and running before the vehicle had even made a complete stop. He never knew that a car ride could seem so long, it being rush hour in DC only prolonged the whole process. His mind could not help but remember doing this same thing three years ago, his eyes frantically searching over the land in front of him in desperation for some sign of his partner. He did not think that he could ever experience such a terror again as he had that day. Little did he know years later it would be even stronger, every muscle in his body reacting to it.

At first he saw nothing, the crime scene where the body was found was still taped off, a small, murky pond and scattered trees. Panic surged through him as he looked. Certainly there would be something here. Hodgins wouldn't make a mistake like this. That thought supported him as he stalked away from all the other agents, ignoring anyone who may have called and asked for where he was going or cried for him to come back. He ignored the pain, the pain that was only growing each day but he still could not go to a hospital yet, as he found himself approaching a building, it wasn't much. More like a rundown shack than actual building, but it wasn't obvious, it was far back enough in the marsh and hidden behind enough trees so that it would not cause attention to be drawn to it.

He pulled his gun out as he approached the door, listening desperately for some kind of sound to be made from inside. He heard silence, yet that did not lower his hopes of what would be behind the door. It was for the best, actually. Silence meant Refton was not with her. Booth's stomach churned at just the thought of that man being with her.

He turned the door knob, rushing into the small room with his gun aiming each and every way. He scanned the room in a frantic manner, searching for her with his eyes straining through the darkness and praying to see her there. He walked in, considering the idea of her being somewhere he could not see. "Bones," he chokes out quietly, holding his breath as he awaited a response. Nothing but the sounds of other FBI agents approaching the building fell on his ears. She wasn't here.


	18. Chapter 18

**This chapter was impossible to write. It was the chapter I was working on when I uploaded the first part to this and then, ten chapter uploads later, I was still trying to write the darn thing. So you should all know it is crap. Completely awful. Plus I'm getting dizzy with the circles I started going in three chapters back. It will move forward soon, really soon. So just hang in there with me. Thanks for all of the support!**

Angela was trying hard to hold back her panic and resist her impending breakdown as Booth returned from the site. She knew he was falling apart right now, that he needed hope and faith in the fact that Brennan would be okay. Angela could not shatter and let him see just how much she was terrified. No, for once she had to be the strong one. She had to be the one who ignored her own emotions to help heal those of others.

That had never been how she cared to deal with her emotions. She always felt free to cry or to be scared. She was not a strong person, not in the way that Bren or Booth was. She was not ashamed of that fact. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. That was who she was, and Angela was a big believer in being who she was.

So when Booth returned with that heartbreaking look on his face and told her the painstaking words that Brennan had not been their, as all that hope that was shining so brightly right in front of her faded, she held herself together and pressed a hand to his shoulder. She murmured a, "We'll find her," in quiet reassurance. Because that was who she needed to be right now. She needed to be strong and to give instead of take. Booth could not handle having anymore taken from him.

The thoughts and worries circled through her mind as she sat in her office, secluded for a moment to try and continue her facade of belief in everything working out. Biting back tears was harder than Brennan made it look.

"She'll be okay," he tells her and she lets out a dry laugh.

"You stole my line," she replies but does not meet his gaze. Her eyes remain downcast, staring at the floor and wondering why she had two different socks for a second before refocusing.

"Sorry about that," Hodgins tells her in faux apologetic tone. "But there really aren't enough corny, supportive lines to go around."

"What if we we don't find her?" Angela skips acknowledging his attempt of a joke, feeling free to lay her burdens on him for a minute. "What if we...What if she..." A sob jokes her words, the familiar Angela Montenegro emotions leaking out.

"Hey, Angie," Hodgins doesn't have anything else to say as he pulls her into a hug. He knows the meaningless words will not help. He knows that right now what she needs isn't someone trying to defuse all of her what ifs but to just give her a little comfort, let her know she's not alone. She doesn't have to be the strong one, not for him.

"I failed her, Hodgins," she cries against him. Her voice is muffled and her breathing is becoming more erratic as the sobs continue on.

"No," he deflects simply. "No, you didn't. Don't put this on you." He tries to rub her back and stroke her hair, just as he always used to, just like he did when they were them. Them, instead of two separate people, no longer together, no longer making something amazing through each other. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"I was supposed to watch over her. I was supposed to make sure she stayed away from this son of a bitch Refton." She pulled away from him, turning around so her back was facing him. She grabbed a tissue and wiped in disgust at her nose. God, why did crying always have to be gross.

"You know Dr. B., Angela. There's no changing her mind once it's made up."

"I should have though! I knew, Hodgins. I _knew_ who Refton was and what he was doing." She spins back around and faces him. Her voice changing from sad and worried to now laced with anger. "I just let her keep going with this damn case and did absolutely nothing to prevent it! What kind of friend am I?" By the time she finishes her rant she's tired. She falls back on to the sofa, Hodgins plopping down beside her and picking up one of her hands in his own.

"A great one," he tells her, giving a gentle smile as she looks at him. "You've been working your ass of at taking care of Brennan ever since Booth left. You've done so much for her, Angie. Not just now either, for years you've been changing her and helping her."

"I feel like I let her down." So many times, over and over, never improving, never fixing her mistakes. Since when did she become the screw up? Angela was always sufficient in many areas of her life, relationships and emotion and spiritual beings were all easy for her. When did she suddenly start struggling? Why did she suddenly begin having problems? It felt like algebra all over again. All through elementary school she never had a problem. Sure, she was not the top in her class and of course she did not enjoy it, but she could do it. Once she started algebra though, she hit a wall. A wall that she couldn't go over and she couldn't go under so she had no choice but to try and find a way around it. She kept getting the problems wrong, over and over. That one wall turning into a whole damn maze where she kept hitting the dead ends. Eventually she did get around it. But it took a lot of time, a lot of trial and error and a lot of patience.

"You didn't, Angela," he tells her and gives her hand one more reassuring pat. "You might not believe me, but hey, I was right about a lot of other things too over the years wasn't I?" He didn't give her a chance to agree or disagree, just turned and left.

Angela laid down on to her couch, her eyes slipping shut in exhaustion. Trying not to worry and then actually worrying in full-out worry mode, yeah, that was tiring.

"Booth!" Cam calls after the agent's retreating figure, her high heeled shoes clacking against the floor as she rushed to catch up with him. He hardly acknowledges with so much as a glance so she just jumps in. "Are you going to Minneapolis?"

"She's not there," he defuses quickly. Cam wouldn't question his thoughts on that, she understood his gut. But someone would question. There was someone who wouldn't just accept that as fact. He speed dials the FBI and waits for the agent who picked up to finish his greeting. "This is Agent Booth, I need some agents flown out to Minneapolis ASAP. I'll have someone from my team send you the GPS stuff."

Cam's giving him a cross between a smile and a look of utter confusion as he hangs the phone up, unsure what had changed his mind and caused his actions. She had just been there to know, to understand and be told and try and see what would happen next. She had not intended to alter anything. "Are you going too?"

"No," he answers easily. "Not now, I can't leave here to go there. She's not there. I need to..." he fades out, leaving the thought open and incomplete, up to interpretation for anyone who so desires to do so with it.

"I understand, Seeley. No need to explain to me."

"Thanks," he says as he stalks towards the exit, a destination in mind and folder in hand as he left.

Booth had only been to the outside of this building before. He'd never gone inside, never visited that strange, annoyingly logical person who lived there. He sometimes felt a little guilty for that, sometimes not so much. In a way he more so felt the guilt of not being there to help him before he landed himself where he is now. He wished he could have made him understand outside of logic and brain and mathematics.

Well, he hadn't back then, but that did not stop him from showing up and asking for a favour now. "How ya doing there, Zack?" Booth asks as he walks across the room and settles in the seat across from Zack.

"Are you asking in regards to my physical or mental health?" Zack questions and when he does not receive an immediate response continues to ramble on. "I ask only because I won't be able to answer your question appropriately without first acknowledging the necessary data to do so."

"It's just a basic question, Zack. Someone asks and you say fine or good and then move on." Booth found himself familiarly agitated and he'd be a liar to say he had not missed it.

Zack stares blankly for a second, his eyes squinted in that way he so commonly used to do. "I fail to comprehend the significance of that."

"Right, well I need some help," Booth begins more than happy to move on with the conversation.

"Is this about Dr. Brennan?"

"How'd you know about Bones?" Booth asks, his mind now sidetracked.

"Hodgins told me about it," he explains simply. "What you did was highly unintelligent."

"Yeah, I made a stupid choice. I got it." In a way it felt both good to hear it and know that it was true, but, at the same time, he found it to be very upsetting. "I just...I need to know what to do."

"Why ask me?" Zack questions, his eyes going squint-y just at the thought. "I haven't gathered enough information in order to-"

"Just, are you willing to help or not?" Maybe he should have more patience, but right now he just couldn't handle that. "I have the file with all of the details right here."

Zack looks hesitant as he glances to the folder and then back to Booth. His eyes were clouded with uncertainty and Booth got more nervous that his reply would be no as seconds wore on in silence.

"For Dr. Brennan," he adds, her official name feeling so strange coming from his mouth. She was "Bones." That's who she was to him.

Zack pulls the file to him and opens it, his eyes reading at an insanely fast pace as he read through the information.

Booth sat back and waited quietly, just allowing the kid do his thing. Booth trusted Zack. Sure, he may have done some pretty...Grotesque stuff, but he wasn't a bad person, just one who was over-taken by some screwed up logic. And he was always faithful to Bones. Booth saw how much respect Zack always held for her, he looked up to her like a child to their mother. Booth wondered if Brennan ever noticed that, if she ever knew just how much of a mentor she was to him.

"Why would you leave?" Zack asks in an entirely platonic tone, not even so much as glancing up from the paper.

"To keep Bones safe," he says simply. "And the other squints and my son too of course." That had been his motivation all along. Just to keep them safe. He wanted to keep those he loved as far from this monster as he possibly killed.

"But that's irrational," he argues back quickly, his mind had most likely already processed out an entire argument. "By leaving, you simply left all of those people undefended which makes it counterproductive."

"There was a plan," Booth defends automatically. Although, if he admitted it to himself, Zack was right. Of course he was right. He was like a mini-Bones. "I wasn't just running away."

"Your plan failed, Agent Booth," Zack informs him and Booth had a momentary desire to take his gun out and shoot him. Of course he knew he failed. He wouldn't be here asking for help on how to save his partner if he did not know he had failed.

"I got that, Zack. That's why you," he gestures to Zack, "Are helping me," he gestures to himself. "You aren't as invested in this as the rest of us are. You might be able to find something."

"You should have thought more logically before."

"Okay, okay, we already established how much of an idiot I am. Can we just...Can we focus on the case?"

"I already figured that out," he says so calmly and evenly, like it didn't mean life or death, as though he was talking about the weather.

"You...You what?" Booth didn't think he would ever understand Zack in all of his abnormal, non-human ways. He was different, to say the least. But he was one of them too.

"I figured it out. Have your auditory receptors decreased since we last-"

"Where the hell is she, Zack!" Booth yells out at the poor kid. He didn't seem panicked or shocked, no Zack did not have those emotions, he was just surprised. And as quickly as the surprise had appeared on his face it vanished away.

"She's right here. Well not right here as that would imply she is in the same room as us, but she is in DC."

"In DC? How did you figure that out?" Booth asks, only half caring. He just wanted to go get to her, to hold her and see her and hear her, followed by profusely apologising of course.

"I didn't, not really. Hodgins supplied the evidence and Mr. Fisher, who I conclude is Dr. Brennan's current intern, gave us plenty of details on the body to add to it. You just failed to put it together."

Booth almost thought that Zack looked smug, but clearly he was wrong because he didn't know how to look smug. Zack had probably never even heard the word smug before. "So you can tell me how to get to Bones?" His voice was laden with so much hope it would break the heart of any earthly being.

"Yes, I can."


	19. Chapter 19

Booth flipped his sirens on as he rushed back to the lab. The tires were squealing nearly every time he made a turn. He needed to get to her soon, as quickly as he could, but first he needed to make some sense of this. Talk it out with Cam or Angela, try and work it out in a way that made sense.

On a sudden decision he swerves the car into a parking space at the Hoover building, hardly remembering to pull his keys out of the ignition before running in.

His hand seemingly forgets to knock as he rushes into Cullen's office, his boss not even the least surprised. "I need the evidence," he blurts out.

"Evidence from what, exactly?"

"The other victims. Refton's other victims," Booth answers, working on trying to catch his breath. "The Jeffersonian already has Amy Hudson' body and physical evidence. We need all of the evidence from this case, every single body, every single piece of evidence. We're taking over the investigation."

"Our FBI forensic team has already-"

"Can I just have it?" Booth asks and swears that the man must take some pity on him. He knew that he wasn't looking so hot right about now. A shower and a change of clothes wasn't able to hide his red rimmed eyes or scratches and bruises along his face, not to mention the markings on him that had been covered up.

"Yeah, sure, Booth," he complies. "I'll call evidence lock up and the morgue and let them know you're coming down to get it."

"Thank you," he says courteously before disappearing from his boss' office and hurrying downstairs.

"Angela's office. Now!" Booth's voice bellows out as he enters the lab and everyone quickly departed from their current projects to gather in the artist's office. Booth gives no explanation as they all wander in and take various places throughout the room. "Hodgins, how quick can you analyse some dirt and stuff?"

"Depends on what kind of...Dirt and stuff you have for me," Hodgins replies with a bit of irritation of the over-used and highly inaccurate terms of "dirt" and "stuff." He doesn't have time to start a rampage though, as Booth shoves a handful of particulate evidence into his arms.

"Compare it to what we have already on the Refton case. Document everything," he gives basic instructions, praying it would not be a long process.

"I'll yell when I have something." He then disappears from the office silently.

"Cam, some bodies are on their way over here. They're your kind of bodies, fleshy and such, examine them like your life depends on it."

He appreciated that he had not been slugged yet, or that no one had even questioned his orders at this point. He was being pushy and bossy, they understood though, it did not anger them. Even though it usually was not something the Squint Squad would accept quite so graciously. He knew one member who'd never allow this from him.

"Angela?" he says her name like a question, as though he wasn't sure if she were listening or not.

"Yes, Booth?"

"I need you to trace a number."

"Sure thing, what is it?" she asks moving to take a seat at her desk and pulling up some complicated looking program.

"The one I called you on."

"But, Booth," she begins to argue. They had already done this before. "It's a dead end."

"I know, Angela. Run the search for where it was when I called you." Zack would be right, the kid was nearly always right. Besides, Booth's gut agreed with the kid's assessment. They'd find her.

"You think he's keeping her where you were before?"

"I think it would be stupid if we didn't check," he says and watches as she begins typing in the number. "Especially since I didn't even know where I was," Booth tells her and then holds his breath while awaiting a result. His hope is dashed as the words "Signal Blocked" flash across the screen.

"Don't worry," she reassures him. "I can probably work through this. It's just going to-"

"Take some time, yeah I got it. Thanks, Angela." He makes his way out of the office. "C'mon Sweets," he calls back while half way out the exit, pleased the psychologist had kept silent for this long and ready to put him to work.

"He's smart, Booth," Sweets says before Booth can even comment or tell the psychologist what he needed to do. "You need to be careful or he could kill her before we get to her."

"I know," Booth replies, agitated by the information he had not asked for. "He's sadistic and sick. He's the type of bastard who keeps me up at night. I got that stuff, Sweets."

"Why is it, do you think, that it keeps you from sleep?" Sometimes Booth could swear the kid didn't even think of it before trying to run a mental evaluation on them. It was a constant thing really.

"I'm not the mental serial killer, Sweets. Focus."

"Right," he says absent-mindedly. "Have you gone to a doctor yet?"

"What? No. Why?" His eye brows furrowed in confusion. Certainly required X-rays could wait a little while.

"You're walking with a limp and like your back's all jacked up."

Oh, _that_ little issue. He knew he had some injuries, minor ones at most. Certainly nothing like that was going to hold him back. He didn't think death itself could stop him at this point. That logical side Brennan had inhabited in him spoke up about that though.

"You're injured."

He says it like it was some sacred secret, like it was life threatening. "You're going to be if you don't shut up and help me," Booth replies with intimidation colouring his tone. Now was not the time to think about some lumbar spine malfunctions. "The guy's a liar, a killer, and obviously not in his right mind."

"Right," Sweets agrees, his face showed he was torn upon pressing the issue of Booth's injuries further and just leaving it alone. The agent did have a way of coercing him to silence from fear.

"Do you think he's smart enough to already be ahead of us now?"

"Do you mean do I think he killed Dr. Brennan?" Sweets asks but sees the look of anger come across Booth's face and quickly back pedals. "No, no you don't. You mean does he know we're coming?" His voice sounded like he was guessing even to himself.

"I mean if I go with my gut and go busting in there...How much trouble would Bones be in?" Booth felt that he knew where this was going, what proof would turn up from Hodgins' evidence, what location Angela would get. They were going to lead to one place, even though he may not know that exact place right now, he knew there would be a location and that Zack would be right. That meant he needed to know if running out there into the gunfire he had been searching for for so long now would be a mistake or not. Maybe now was one of those times he needed to hide back and shoot them from far off.

"I'm a psychologist, Agent Booth," he clarifies. "Not Refton himself. I can only tell you so much about him, not his every thought or move."

"Yeah," Booth replies quietly and turns away from Sweets, no destination in mind, just a desire to go do something. "I understand." That didn't make it any easier though.

Brennan winced as she coughed up blood, spitting it on to the ground next to her. She was getting tired, weak. Her grasp on days and hours had faded long ago. It felt as though she had been here for an eternity, whereas in reality she had most likely only been here for a couple of days. It was so dark, she knew that much; so dark she wasn't sure she could barely see her hand right in front of her face.

She wasn't tied down, she could get up and move. Which she had, multiple times too. She hadn't found anything, it was just a small, cold room. She would calculate it to be maybe two meters by three at most. She was cramped, trapped and it bothered her. The door was locked, and the walls were not anything average, not something that could be broken down unless there was some explosives to help. It was getting to a point where she was beginning to lack the capability to get up and walk around. The beatings were more vicious, the raping more violent, the words more malicious. It was a down spiral of a situation, and it was an exhausting one at that.

What was really beginning to get to her though was the fact that there was nothing she could do, her brilliant mind at a waste as she sat in that room. She'd been captured before, more times than she cared to remember, but she always had her brain to help her through the situation. Her common sense paired with her martial arts skills aided her in finding a way out on many occasions. Even when she lacked the necessary materials in order to actually accomplish anything she could still sit and think about it, still consider what she would do, how she would do it. Sometimes it was as simple as over-powering the fool who had abducted her. Sometimes it involved doing things like blowing out windshields through the explosives of air bags.

That was another thing she noticed was bothering her right now. This quiet, it was so loud, screaming in her mind and causing her to feel her sane mind slip a little bit at a time. In all honesty Brennan was unsure of what she hated more. Being with someone and trying to keep up an appearance and not allow her true emotions to shine through or to be alone. She was lonely, she had no one to talk to, no one to discuss the situation with, no one else's well being to be concerned with. She was bored and scared and there was no one there who she could share these feelings with or even to just know they felt the same, that they understood.

Hodgins and she had grown closer after they were buried alive. Not in a way where they began confiding in one another nor did they become close friends, but there was just a mutual comprehension between the two of them, a bond between two colleagues. She did not know if she would have survived that experience all on her own. She certainly would not have been able to create oxygen out of a carbon dioxide scrubber and obviously there was no way she could have taken some dirt and perfume and have been able to know exactly where they were. She'd had faith in Booth back then but without Hodgins' help would there really have been a chance that he could have saved her?

Brennan laughed bitterly in the darkness, her voice sounding hoarse and yet oh so loud in the silence. Since when did she asks questions debating the how's and who's and why's? Since when did she waste her time worrying and wondering about such useless things, things of which could never be altered or changed? That was not the sort of thing a scientist did.

She tries to occupy her mind while going over her injuries in her mind. She knew two of her ribs had broken and her right radius was fracture as well. Her left zygomatic and sphenoid had been bruised and she did not know if she could even count how many muscle contusions she must have by now. The pain was all over, she knew that much. Her head, her abdomen, her chest, her lower extremities, every it of her hurt. It ached from the torture and, in a rare occurrence in her life, she desired drugs to help numb all of the pain.

Temperance felt her entire body tense as she heard the door creak open and winced with each footstep as they approached her, slow and heavy, plodding along. She tried to ignore him as he appeared before her. She tried to not listen to him, to not feel him, to not even acknowledge his existence. It never worked though. How could it? No amount of compartmentalisation could allow her to ignore these deep, heavy shooting pains. There was no way to block out his words, or the stomach churning way he would graze his hand along her face, as though caressing it in some sort of sadistic manner.

"My, my, Temperance," he says and picks her up to set her on the chair in the room. She fought hard to keep from screaming out in agony as every part of her body convulsed painfully. "You've held out the longest, and I have done some of my very best work with you."

She wanted to spit at him, as juvenile and useless as that may be, it was a sign of disrespect, of hatred. Plus she was not sure if much else aside from her saliva production was even functioning at this point. She hated everything this man was, the way he thought, spoke, smelled, everything. She wanted him to die. He was another example as to why she believed so firmly in the death penalty. Temperance only wished she did not already have so many examples when it came to that.

"Don't you want to let out just one little scream?" he asks, his voice in some sort of contorted sound of kindness while holding a vulgar sounding tone at the same time.

Brennan did not even make a sound. She just stared at him, with what, she so assumed to be, empty and emotionless eyes. Staring into him and perhaps drawing out a little bit of the pride he felt in controlling her. His hand collided forcefully against her ethmoid bone. Her teeth gritted together, clamping so hard it hurt as well. The fact that her mandible and maxillary were bruised did not help the matter.

"You know, if I had not heard you speak before I would swear you're mute. No one stays quiet through something like this." He takes another swing, this packing a hard punch to her mandible. "No one," he whispers horrifically into her ear, some of his saliva slipping out with the words. Her nose scrunched up in disgust of the warm wetness against her ear.

"Your partner," Refton says quietly, his hand beginning to assault her in a different way, a way that brought a whimper to the back of her throat. "He would talk even. Took a hell of a lot but I did get him to talk from time to time."

Temperance finds herself alerted at what he says. Booth had been here? Booth had been captured? He had not left her? But then why would he quit? How was he still alive? Her head pounded with each question and the petrified feeling that coursed through her veins aided her in holding back all of the questions. She wanted answers though, ones she would never get before she died. She slammed her eyes shut and tried to think of dying. The releasing feeling as she slipped away from Earth and simply died. If only she was not forced to live through hell before she could get there.

* * *

"Give me your shoes!" Hodgins exclaims while jogging up to Booth, a smile plastered across his face, the kind of smile he only got when he found something.

"Why? What did you find?" Booth questions automatically, his curiosity overruling his common sense to just do as the entomologist said.

"Just give me your shoes I'll explain while I examine." Hodgins grabs the one shoe Booth has kicked off and dashes off to his station, brushing some of the dirt and gunk out from the treads and then staring at it through the microscope. "The soil in your shoes has a very specific fingerprint and trace elements of Argon and Krypton. It's more commonly found out in the country, very rare in DC. Plus, I found chemicals. Very specific chemicals that are only found together in certain structures."

"What does that mean for Bones?" Booth asks anxiously, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through him as Hodgins continued to talk. He needed answers, facts to match up with his gut and give him reason enough to go.

"It means I can tell you exactly where Dr. Brennan is."

* * *

Booth wasn't sure if he was breathing or not. His entire body seemed haywire as he sped down the highway. He knew where she was, his gut was corresponding with his brain this time and that meant something to him, it meant a lot to him actually. The prospect of finding her though, it was scary. How badly had she been beaten? Had Refton sexually assaulted as he had his other victims? Was there any realistic hope that may not have? What if she were...

He pressed his foot harder on to the gas, now going over a hundred miles an hour, not caring in the slightest of the major accident he could potentially cause. If the sirens, flashing lights and beeping horn didn't get these people's attentions enough to move out of the way then surely they should not be driving in the first place. So he went as fast he could, most likely leaving back up behind him in a cloud of pavement dust.

He pulled off on to the exit, jerked to a stop once he reached a house. It was a small house, nothing special, not in any great neighborhood. In fact, from the looks of it there were not many people in the neighborhood at all. It was a ghost town, this neighborhood. The few people who did run the streets were gangsters or pimps, Booth could tell just from the look of 'em. They did not seem all too pleased to see a man who was obviously a cop in their neighborhood. He ignored them though, his eyes focused on the smaller building beyond the house.

It was sunken into the ground, three steps leading down towards the doorway. The building was a fallout shelter. This was where Booth had been for over a week, this was where she was now.

Booth heard a voice beyond the door, a voice he recognised, only not the voice he was searching for. It was Refton, and it made Booth's stomach twist with fury and disgust. He took a step back, preparing his impact to be made against the door before he entered. Just as he made the move to burst in he heard the most terror filled and horrific scream he'd heard in his life. It was Bones' scream.

**Okay, okay I know the cliff hangers are getting old but, in my defense, Booth did technically find her this chapter. Also, I know it's long but I put two chapters together for you guys. Nice of me, don't you think? Thanks again you guys!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Alright, well here's the next one. Thanks guys so much for the awesome response on the last one. Keep it up! I do hope you all find this satisfactory. **

* * *

Her senses were fading slowly as he continued his work of torture on her. For once she was beginning to hate how strong she was, perhaps if she were weaker she would have passed on to the blessed unconsciousness. The blows were repeated, time and time again, inflicting a deep, intense pain in the same spot for what felt like hours before moving on to another spot to attack. Her head, her abdomen, her legs, her hips, every piece of her beaten viciously. Black dots spotted her vision, angry throbs pounded in her head, she was fading.

She had yet to pass out during his attacks. She wanted to, Lord knows she did, but there was her own stubborn nature resisting her from doing so. She wouldn't give in to him the same way she let him have no satisfaction by hearing her pain. But the hurt was increasing, her grasp on to consciousness slipping away.

She let out a gasp of surprise as a hard, blunt object came in contact with her shin, hitting her tibia with extreme force. She could feel the break, hear the crack. It made her nauseated. Then came the rush of pain, it blinded her entirely and then the room began to spin. She gritted her teeth in agony, trying hard to ignore the pain that shot through every nerve ending. Brennan tried her to focus her mind on the logistics of it. Was it greenstick? Spiralled? Transverse? Compound? He hit it again and a strangled, fought back scream was let loose from her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears as she felt the bone break through her skin.

He smiled at her, dropping his weapon and allowing it to clatter to the floor before walking close to her. He kneeled next to her chair and let his fingers wipe across her face, gathering tears as he went. She flinched away, trying to pull back hard enough that he couldn't touch, couldn't see her in vulnerability. "There, there," he whispered in a soft tone. The serial killer's tone of deadly intentions, fake comfort in trying to cause her to relax. She fought back a whimper as his hands lowered down further. He stops at her leg and her eyes widen in horror as she realises just what he is about to do. He was going to set her bone back into place.

Temperance knew how much the process hurt, how it sent waves of pain through your entire body in strong enough currencies to pass out or even fall into shock. She knew compound fractures were the worst. She knew an amateur setting the bone would do it improperly. "No," she pleaded in a point of weakness, her determination on silence and vow of refraining from giving him what he so desired forgotten. She just wanted him to leave that bone alone.

"Why, Dr. Brennan, are you begging me not to do it?" he asks and his hands move away from the area.

She feels a bit of relief flow through her for the moment. She doesn't respond to him in hopes he will become caught up in his questioning.

"Beg me and perhaps I will not do it. Maybe I will move away from your precious bone and spare you that pain," he bargains with her. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes," Brennan whispers brokenly. Her silent reverie now broken and she hardly even cared. The pain overwhelmed her. Her breathing was becoming haggard and frantic, she didn't know how much longer she could hold on. In fact, she wasn't even sure why she was putting so much effort into holding on. Why not let go? It was about time she gave up her fighting side, die earlier instead of having it be drawn out. Wasn't that what she wanted? To just die.

"Then beg," he demanded her. His voice losing the soft, manipulative tone and becoming louder and more forceful. "Beg me or I will reset your bone. You know what that's like. You know how it feels, don't you? You don't want me to do that to you. You couldn't stand it." He taunted her, like a child trying to convince one of his peers to do something they don't want; trying hard to talk her into it and make her believe she wanted it.

"Do it." She challenged simply, daring him with her eyes and with her voice. His face displayed shock with her sudden allowance of the action, the strength that had been added to her voice. "Go ahead and do it."

His hands wander back down to the spot, tapping at the protruding bone. She let out a small yelp but held back her tears, blinking furiously to keep them at bay.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asks her quietly, his hands now placed right over her leg, right where he would probably push with extreme, painful force.

"Positive," she says nodding affirmatively. She digs her fingernails into the flesh of her hands and grits her teeth, preparing herself the best way possible and hoping to keep from screaming out. His hand collides with her bone and she lets out a horrified shout before slipping into oblivion.

Booth pushes his shoulder into the door of the building and rushes in without a thought. His eyes scan through the darkness of the room and spots two figures. One seemingly passed out in a chair and one standing over the body. Booth pulled the trigger without much thought, he knew exactly who it was after staring at that face in darkness for days. The man crumples to the ground and Booth doesn't even bother to check his body before rushing over to Brennan.

He barely knows what to do with himself as he looks at her lifeless body. He shoots up a quick and silent prayer as his hands begin to search for a pulse. They were shaking so hard he wasn't sure if he even could identify it if he found it but thankfully they land on a spot and he feels the gentle, but ever so comforting sensation of her blood coursing through her veins.

He feels relief for but a moment as his eyes adjust to the darkness and he can make out her face, her badly beaten and bruised face. His insides flip-flop at the thought of how much damage there could be to her body. He felt bile rise in his throat as he saw blood trickling down from her temple.

"Agent Booth!" a slightly familiar voice yells out. Booth remembers back up as they come rushing to the building, fully geared with their flash lights and guns and adorned in bullet proof vests. As their flash lights come to rest on Brennan's body Booth literally feels his heart rip in two. It was no wonder that she was unconscious considering her condition, and his own voice of guilt began to speak up, reminding him of just who's fault it was that she was like this.

He kicks into protective mode as one of the agents approaches her, others in the back round calling for EMTs. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks the young agent whose hand had been outstretched, ready to touch his partner.

"I was just..." he starts but then backs away from Booth's glare. His eyes could make them forget protocol, he was going to be the one checking to make sure she was okay. Not anyone else.

"Bones," he whispers quietly, having some sort of false hope that he would actually get a response. "Bones, hey, can you hear me at all?" He talks louder, his hand finding hers and grasping it tightly. "Bones, if you can hear me squeeze my hand." He waits for a minute, praying for a flinch or a tap, anything, but he felt nothing, only her lifeless hand clutched tightly in his own.

The EMTs rushed into the room, immediately circling Booth and Brennan, trying to pull him away while they began their inspection of her body. Booth heard medical terms being thrown out but none of them made any sense, something that just made him all the more nervous. Hands were all over her and she was put in a neck brace for God knows what reason. They moved her to a gurney and started wheeling her out the ambulance, Booth now back into his right mind and following hot on their heels. He didn't even ask before jumping into the back of the ambulance, not caring what they said one way or the other. He breathed out with relief for but a second before all of the chaos entered the vehicle.

An oxygen mask was clamped over her face, an IV inserted into her arm. Under the bright lights of the ambulance Booth could see her injuries more clearly. Cuts and bruises coated the visible parts of her body and there was a bone sticking out from her leg. That'd be her...Tibia, or maybe fibula, Booth could never keep those two straight. She looked pale and weak, there was dried blood all down one of her arms. Booth didn't think he wanted to see all of the injuries that were under her clothes, all of those markings that were currently being hidden. He wasn't sure if he could stomach seeing that much pain done to his partner. It just wasn't right.

His hand remained in her grasp through out all of the hustle bustle, held more tightly than he had intended for the most part. He would not let go of it, could not. In a moment of clear thinking he pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Angela's number. He did not even get a brief "Hello" before she quickly jumped into the, "What happened's?" And "Are you all okay's." He wanted to reassuringly say they were fine, that she had been found and Refton was killed, but he couldn't get it out. I just stuck to his throat. Instead all there was was a quiet choked out, "She's hurt." Something that was met by Angela's reply of meeting them at the hospital.


	21. Chapter 21

**Alright, here we go, another chapter. No cliffhanger this time. Angela is dominating most of the chapter this time though. Thanks a lot again to all of you. I do hope you like it.**

* * *

Angela Montenegro had always hated hospitals. Sure, that's where babies were born and people got better, but for her the hospital always meant bad things. Like when she broke her left arm in the third grade or when she discovered sculpting was not quite her thing, the carving tool slicing her arm which then required six stitches. More recently it meant going to visit her friends after they'd been buried alive or shot or blown up. It was never a good thing, never a happy place. This time was no different.

She'd been in a cross of a frenzy and a trance since Booth had called her. His damn obscure message telling her nothing aside from the fact that her best friend was hurt. What did hurt mean? How did hurt describe anything at all? Hurt can range from a paper cut to being near death. Unfortunately for Angela, the second scenario kept repeating itself in her mind.

Hodgins was faithfully at her side, of course. He'd driven her to the hospital and had been trying to talk, obviously a very sweet attempt of trying to keep her mind off of things, but she hadn't heard a word. Hodgins took over with talking to the registration nurse, guiding her to the elevators and then through corridors to a waiting room. Sometimes she just knew she took him for granted, but right now her main priority was not to make sure Hodgins was aware of how grateful she was.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Booth but finding only strangers. Worried girlfriends and wives, pacing husbands or impatient boyfriends; they sat mostly quiet, some crying from time to time, some disappearing, some getting a name called. They just sat there though, in silence.

Anxiousness bubbled in her stomach, questions running through her mind at the speed of light and no answers were being provided. It made her even more nervous. She needed to know something, anything. For starters it'd be nice to know if Brennan were alive or where the hell Booth was and why he got to be with her but they couldn't. Was she awake? Was she aware of what happened? What happened to Refton? "What department are we in?" she asks, turning to Hodgins in sudden curiosity.

"Intensive care," Hodgins says quietly to her, aware of the sudden tighter grasp on his hand. "They said they were bringing her here once she was through with surgery," he explains from the beginning, noting only now that she must not have heard anything to begin with.

"Surgery? For what?" The panic rose in her voice some. Intensive care was bad enough but to go from surgery to intensive care? That's what they did with people who had their chest ripped open or their brains poked at. That wasn't something they did to people who needed a couple of bandages and some fluids. Intensive care meant on the brink of death.

"I don't know," was his simplistic answer.

"Well why the hell don't we know?" she questions, her voice now finding anger and adding volume. A few of the guests to this lovely waiting room turned to look at her.

"We're not family, Angie. They won't tell us anything."

"I'm closer than any of her biological family and you know it," she whispers with a venomous twinge to her voice, as though it was his fault.

"I do know it. But that's not how all that legal crap works and you know it. Damn government controlling everything all the time..."

"Not the time for one of your tangents on the government and how congress works or any of your conspiracy theories. Just...Not the time." Her heart beats faster as another doctor enters the waiting area. She prayed both that he would be there to talk to them and also that he wouldn't. She wasn't sure what she wanted. She needed answers and yet dreaded the thought of what they could be. He isn't there to talk to them though, and suddenly she wishes more than anything that he would. She just wanted someone to give her an answer.

"Ms. Brennan's family." Angela hears and quickly stands up and walks over to the doctor, stopping right in front of him. She reached out and found Hodgins' hand right where she needed it.

"Is she okay?" Angela blurts out first. That was the answer she needed most. Recovery time and the placings of injuries would come after. Right now she just wanted to be reassured that Brennan would wake up tomorrow morning.

"She has several injuries, cracked ribs, fractured tibia, severe head wound, extreme dehydration, and uh there is signs of sexual abuse as well. We had to perform surgery in order to repair the break to her leg and we had a few complications with her breathing throughout. She's hooked up to a ventilator for right now and will be getting her nutrition from a feeding tube. The injuries are extensive and after the troubling surgery we will be keeping her in ICU for the night. Hopefully tomorrow we can send her down to recovery."

Angela was at a cross of breathing from relief and ready to begin asking a million questions a minute. "Can I see her?" is all that comes out though. She had some of her answers and now she just needed some visionary reassurance.

"Of course, but only one visitor at a time is allowed in the ICU."

Angela nods, dropping Hodgins' hand and giving him a glance before following the doctor down the hall. "Where is the agent she arrived at the hospital with?" Angela questions, her mind catching up a little. No way Booth would just disappear from the hospital, and surely he could not have gone into surgery with Brennan, which left open the question of why he would not of come and wait with Hodgins and herself.

"He was sent downstairs for a series of tests himself. Non-negotiable, although he fought it rather hard. He kept flashing his badge at everyone, tried everything in his power to stay with Ms. Brennan."

"Doctor," Angela corrects for the sake of her friend. "She's Dr. Brennan."

"Right, well he didn't leave her side until she went into surgery a couple of hours ago. I'm sure he'll be done soon." They stop at her room and Angela gets a horrifying look at her friend for the first time. Every visible centimetre of her body was seemingly covered with cuts or bruises or bandages. Her leg was wrapped in a cast all the way to her knee and her face was swollen and red. There were black stitches along her forehead and her arm as well. Machines were beeping all around her body, IV lines stuck in her veins and a tube down her throat. "The anaesthetics and morphine will most likely keep her asleep for quite some time. Don't be alarmed if she does awake though. A nurse or doctor will be in as soon as she does."

Angela nods her head silently, approaching the bed with caution. Sure, Brennan had landed herself in the hospital many times before for several different reasons. Angela could think of four instances off the top of her head. But this was a whole other lever for Angela. She wasn't accustomed to all the tubes or the heart monitors; not used to hearing that her best friend had stopped breathing at some point, that she could have brain damage. This was all just a bit new to her, and although she was always up for new experiences Angela was certain this was something she did not like in the slightest.

"We ask that you please switch your cell phone off," the doctor says and watches as she fumbles around in her purse until she finds the device and shuts it off. He disappears after, for some reason or another that she had not really heard. She pulls up one of the hard plastic chairs beside the bed and sits down, trying to position in herself into a more comfortable position.

People had a thing for talking to their friends and family when they weren't conscious, right? They all did in the movies and books, with the dramatic music playing in the back round and the perfectly timed tears. And then the patients would wake up and they would've heard them in their sleep or it'd be proven that the words were what had saved them. It was a very romantic idealisation. The thought of it was something everyone loved to hear about. Probably why it was in all of those movies and books to begin with. But Angela wondered if it did anything in real life. Surely she didn't expect her friend to die, the doctor didn't even really mention it as it being a chance. Did you still talk to them when they were supposed to wake up? Brennan would be sure to reprimand her if she did such a thing. Talking about ridiculous allegations and it being some urban myth or unproven fact. Not to mention what the hell was she supposed to say?

And what was with all of the stupid hospital rules? No cell phones? Shouldn't you be able to keep in contact with other immediate family? Or what about only one person at a time being allowed to visit in ICU? ICU is where the people are all banged up. That's where they're expected to die. People need to have someone else there next to them to keep them strong. How'd the hospital expect each person to go it alone? Angela didn't think she could go it alone. And could Booth? No doubt he was beating himself up over this. Although she was pretty pissed at him for not calling her at some point. He must have known more than she did a few hours ago.

After fifteen minutes of sitting there she could feel a twinge in her back and a restlessness in her feet. There was something about sitting at someone's hospital bedside while they were zonked out on drugs that really sucked. She tried her best to position herself another way, propping her feet up at the very edge of the bed and leaning her head back to stare at the plain, white ceiling.

Brennan awoke into an immediate alarmed and confused state. Something was in her throat, it burned and it felt so foreign. Why did it hurt so much? She tried to lift her hands to pull at it but she couldn't get them to raise up. Her eyes popped open and they were overcome with light flooding from every direction and she slammed them back shut. Her head pounded and her leg was on fire and she had no clue where she was.

In a sudden panic she began thrashing as much as she could. She heard lots of beeping and then she could swear she heard a distant "Bones!" but it was all covered up by voices instructing specific medical jargon. Stuff that made sense to her, and yet the words all blurred together in a meshed up heap of confusion.

Brennan couldn't seem to calm her anxiety in that moment as she continued to fight against all of the hands that were on her and pulling away from the people that were just hurting her more. She couldn't handle being hurt any more. She wanted them all off of her. She tried to scream at them but that object in her throat resisted the action. She couldn't let out a word or a scream, she couldn't even breathe in on her own. What was wrong with her?

Her body slowly began to relax back into it's previous state and suddenly she began forgetting all of those awful things she was feeling. Her eyes slipped open to the horrendous light and they locked for but a second with a familiar pair of brown one's. She wanted to stay connected with them but it felt like someone was forcing her eyelids down over her eyes and she had no choice but let them fall closed and go back to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Wow, you guys, the response these past couple chapters has been really great. So, thank you. Booth and Brennan get a turn this chapter. Let me know what you think. Also, a medical disclaimer as I am not involved in the medical field or anything surrounding it. Most of what I know is from research off the internet and listening to my mother all of my life who is a nurse.**

"What happened?" Booth begins questioning the doctor as soon as Brennan was safely back to sleep. The ruckus died down just as quickly as it had begun, machines returned to normal and the nurses faded out of the room. Booth would have been more concerned if it were not for the steady beat of the heart monitor, a consistent reminder that blood was still pulsing through her veins. "What's wrong with her?"

"We had to sedate her," he begins to explain. "She woke up and her heart rate got dangerously high. Most likely from a slight anxiety attack. It's very common when patients are on a ventilator. Her's was just a bit higher than we would have liked." Booth stares at the doctor as he processes the information. She was fine. Bones was fine. The image before him screamed the opposite though. "We'll probably go ahead and take her off the tube in a couple of hours and then we can lift sedation. She'll be fine."

His exact chant repeated back to him. Fine. She'd be fine. What the hell did fine mean though? Wasn't it just that word people spat out whenever they didn't want to actually say how they feel, usually because they felt like crap. Or what you say to the people you run into in the grocery store that you sort of know and are obligated to talk to even though you don't want to? Isn't fine just a cover word? What if she were never more than fine?

He takes a seat next to her bed again, wincing in pain as he did so. It turned out his injuries were more extensive than anyone had picked up on, including himself. His mind had been so fully focused on Bones this whole time that the thoughts of his own physical issues were just not of importance. Sure, it ached every time he moved before but there was something about having all of his injuries pointed out to him and diagnosed that made it worse. Two of his ribs had been broken and he apparently has some pretty decent bruising to his brain, plus some lovely bruised bones to go with it. At one point they thought he may have some internal bleeding in his stomach but it just turned out to be that the wonderful med-student they were training just screwed up on his ultrasound. It took an extra hour and a half because of that mess though and all he could think of that entire time was Brennan.

Being with her was better. It broke his heart seeing her like this, but he needed to be next to her. Something that Angela was very kind to understand. She offered to sit in when he wanted to get dinner and although he had no intentions of eating tonight, he agreed. After all, Angela may need to be with Brennan just as much as he did right now. No one may ever be able to comprehend the panic he felt throughout this process but certainly Angela had her own horrific feelings from this entire event. He wasn't sure he could even handle hearing about what she went through before. The way Angela had talked about her...The way that he knew she could be. How she would retract from the world, that she wouldn't handle being deserted by him well at all. But his mind convinced him it wasn't desertion. It told him that he was doing just what needed to be done so she could live her life. He did what he thought needed to be done to keep her safe.

That constant beep next to him was one of the many reminders of that fact that he had not done anything near protecting her. The bulky, white cast wrapped all around her leg told him how much he had failed her. The fact that right now all of her nutrients were going through a tube into her body was testament to the fact that he messed up. And he messed up big time.

He left her under the belief that she would be hurt emotionally but that she would recover. He had anticipated getting son of a bitch Refton and making sure he was killed. Booth himself anticipated his own death to occur during these events. Originally that made him want to stay home more than anything. People at home needed him around. How could he just go get himself killed without considering them? But damn Refton knew how to get right to him. By going through those people he was so adamant at staying with. He threatened his son, his eight year old boy. Then he went on to talking about everyone at the Jeffersonian, Cam and Hodgins and Angela. They were his squints. And finally Brennan. His partner, his best friend, the woman he loved. And Booth knew, he knew in his gut and not his brain, despite how Brennan would try to dispute the accuracy of it, that Refton was going to go after his partner. But if Booth blocked passage to his partner then Refton would take out someone else on the list. He had to protect them all. So he left.

He hated himself for not saying goodbye to her. Then again, he had not said goodbye to anyone. But he left with the belief that he would die. Booth doubted Cullen would stick his neck out that extra meter to save him, meaning he was pretty sure death was where it was going to lead. An eye for an eye. He couldn't tell her why he was going because she would never allow him to go. He couldn't tell her where he was going because she would follow. And he couldn't tell her that he was going because he was a coward and wouldn't be able to stand there and watch her heart break.

Sitting here next to her broken and battered body told him that he had made a horrific mistake. He had allowed her to be hurt and in so many different ways. He let Refton get a hold of her and attack her, torture her to the point of near death. What was nearly worse though was the fact that he himself had hurt her. He was the one who crushed her fragile, yet so heavily protected, heart. Refton was the one who put her in a hospital and caused her to breathe through a tube, but he was the one who added to her invisible scars of pain and abandonment. How was he any better than her father? He left to protect his Bones. Max had left to protect his Tempe. Where was the difference? How was he any better than her father who had left her behind and broke her in so many imponderable ways?

"I'm so sorry, Bones," he whispers unsure if she could hear him or if she would even believe him. One thing he did know was that it was true.

The next time that Brennan awoke the strange object in her throat had disappeared and was now replaced with a scratching and somewhat burning feeling. She breathed in deep on her own and let her brain register the smells: Antiseptics, sterilizing alcohol and the faint hint of detergent. Now that her mind was not as foggy, and she could think somewhat clearly, it was easy for her to conclude she was. Which was in a hospital.

She opens her eyes to a dimmer light this time, much to her relief. Her eyes still sting a little when she finally peels them open and she blinks a few times to ease the pain of it. Her throat is dry, so very itchy, and suddenly she is desperate for a drink of water. Her eyes wander around to her left and then her right, looking for someone to help her with this need. They land on a sleeping figure, surprisingly it was not the body of Angela as Brennan had so suspected, but instead it was Booth. He had been there before, she remembered now, but why was he here at this time? How did he end up at her hospital bedside? How had she landed herself in the hospital to begin with? Had he heard of her disappearance? Had he come back to save her? She felt foolish romanticising over such silly things and quickly cleared her mind of these thoughts.

Brennan coughed roughly as she had tried to swallow saliva down her throat, only to have the scratchy pain burn too much and cause her to begin choking. Booth jerked up suddenly and his eyes widened as he looked at her. She wasn't sure if he was scared or worried or just had no clue what to do. After a few more moments of coughing she managed to choke out the word "water" to him and he soon jumped into action. He grabbed a styrofoam cup and took the straw, helping her situate it between her lips before she was able to take a long pull of the glorious liquid that relieved the burning in her throat a bit. She pulls back and collapses against the flat pillows in exhaustion from the short activity.

It is then that she becomes aware of the pain everywhere else in her body, along with the fact that her entire lower leg has been engulfed by a large white cast. She flinches in the memory and tries to ignore the flashes that come through her brain. Her face contorts in pain as she tries to move one of her arms and Brennan is very quickly aware of just how much damage has been done to her. She could hardly move at this point. "Where am I?" she asks, her voice sounding nothing like it usually did. It was as though someone had filed it down to a gravelly, awkward sound. It hurt to speak, just as it hurt to do anything else.

"Hospital," Booth answers simply, still staring at her in a mixture of confusion, horror and sympathy.

Brennan rolls her eyes at his answer. Did he not realise that she was aware of that fact. If nothing else that consistent beeping should be enough to tip her off. Not to mention only hospitals could have beds this uncomfortable. "ICU," he clarifies, apparently having caught her face when he had answered previously. "They had to do surgery so they could fix your leg and then your breathing got all messed up and they said your brain had a lot of damage so they brought you here...We've all been so worried."

It didn't take her long to note that Booth wasn't himself. He was jumpy and nervous and behaving as though he didn't know how to act around her. He probably didn't. She doubted he even wanted to be here. He was probably here out of guilt. Booth and his ridiculous alpha-male tendencies were the most probable cause for his stance by her bedside. "Why are you here?" she questions and even with her voice destroyed and near useless she still manages to sound angry and venomous in that sentence. She had not even meant to sound that way.

"I-" he starts and fades off, looking away from her eyes and down to the floor. "Do you need anything, Bones?"

She notices him changing the subject, it is not as though it was the least bit subtle. She lets it go though, finding no point in pressing the issue any further. "I want to talk to a doctor," she says, already finding her eyelids a bit heavier and ready to slip back into sleep. She wanted to understand her condition first. Figure out how long it would take for her to leave the hospital, go back to work, gain full mobility. Along with going over her injuries and talking about this brain damage Booth had mentioned.

"Right, I can go get him," he says and then disappears into the hall, leaving her to her thoughts for a moment. They focused on Booth, how strange and yet so normal it was to have him next to her. How she wanted to banish him away and at the same time wanted to cling him close to her and never let go. How she hated him with such a ferocity that seeing his face flamed up something inside of her but also loved him so deeply she didn't think the hate made a difference. All of these emotions, conflicting so much right now and she didn't even have any answers to begin with. Why he was here. Why he was so lost looking. Why he left in the first place. How could she even begin to form a somewhat rational thought process when she did not know anything?

Booth returns with the doctor following behind. He gives her a gentle, pitying smile before asking her the customary, "How are you doing?"

"Considering the conditions, I do believe I am feeling decent," she says, not wanting to admit to the pain she was indeed feeling or the exhaustion she was currently refusing to submit to.

"Now what is it you would like to know?" he asks, opening the folder in his hand, one that Brennan gathered to be hers. She runs through all of the questions she has to ask and lands on the one she wishes to know the answer to the most.

"When can I go home?" Away from the needles and the noisy machines, away from all of the hospital smells and sounds. She wanted to go home.

"In about a week, most likely. We'd like to move you to recovery tomorrow morning and then we'll need to monitor you as well make sure your more extensive injuries stay clean. Once you return home you'll be on a series of medications and be expected to visit here every other week for a check up."

She nods slowly, already wondering if her arms were strong enough to begin using crutches all day at work once as soon as she got herself out of the hospital. "Can you explain to me my injuries?"

"Complex fracture of the tibia, broken ribs, severe cut on your right arm, and it appears your brain has been bruised up quite a bit. We were concerned with brain trauma or memory loss but so far you seem fine. We'll get a fresh start in the morning when it comes to testing you." He smiles at her, as though she were a child that could be placated by the gesture. "At around six to eight weeks we hope to get you in a walking cast."

She nods her head simply, the drugs that were being fed into her body by one of the many wires hooked up to her causing her to become rather loopy. She was unsure how much longer she could hold up conversation. "Will there be any permanent damage?" she asks, letting out a big yawn as soon as the sentence was out.

"A few scars here or there but, as far as we can tell, you should heal up just fine." He keeps smiling and Brennan soon finds herself both annoyed with him and questioning his degree in the medical field. She nods her head and closes her eyes, signifying she is through speaking with him. She hears Booth offer the man a "Thank you very much" before his footsteps exit the room.

"Are you okay, Bones?" he asks her and she feels like demanding he can't call her Bones any more, that the nickname was strictly off limits. Because when he says it tears sting her eyes and she feels both sadness and anger at him, mostly sadness. Brennan resists the urge of saying such a thing to him though. Ruling it out as childish and also a fairly obvious sign of just how much he had hurt her. She didn't want for him to know that. She wanted to appear as rational as she always had, not effected by his neglectful ways towards her.

"I'm fine," she says and decides that now is a good of time as any to give into sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**I really don't have anything to say today so I guess just thank you all so much and enjoy.**

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Angela was exhausted, but she happily sat herself down in the chair beside Brennan's bed. Booth had lost all track of time and so now it was going on midnight. She didn't mind though. Tonight it would not matter how much sleep she got. It was strange for her, going through so much in one day and never having the time to really adjust fully. It seemed as though she was frantically bouncing from panicked to calm or from worried to happy. She didn't know what to think even now. She was grateful Brennan was alive and had been saved but looking at her in this condition, so hurt and broken, it was hard to be grateful while seeing that. Brennan never looked that way to her. Sure, she'd seen her wrapped up in bandages and even in the hospital before but it was never to this horrifying degree. And she was not liking it.

The worst part was that she couldn't talk to Brennan. She was glad her friend was sleeping, as she certainly needed it, but she needed to ask how she was, to discuss what happened, to tell her she was sorry. Sorry that she had ever gone home that night that Brennan was abducted. Perhaps if she had stayed on the couch that night Refton would not have taken her then, maybe after that he just would not have been able to get to her. She could have kept her safe had she not of left to go back to her own place to sleep. Angela allowed Brennan's horrific nightmares to become a reality that night. It was her fault.

Angela was still terrified at just the thought of what Brennan may have gone through. The doctor had said that she had been sexually assaulted. Someone had raped Brennan. Never did Angela think she would ever hear such a thing. Her friend had a black belt in several different types of martial arts, she didn't even know what half of them were, certainly she was not in danger of being raped in some dark alley or a jerk of a boyfriend. Brennan could take care of herself with that sort of stuff. But Refton, he had taken something from her by what he did. Angela knew some about Brennan's past. She knew that Brennan had been raped before, that it was something that still haunted her. Who wouldn't it bother? She'd recover from the broken bones and the deep cuts, but something like that...How long would a recovery take?

What she wanted right now was to get into her friend's mind a bit. Because no matter how well Angela may like to think she knew Brennan, she always managed to surprise her. She figured this instance would probably be no different. That was why she wanted to talk it out, to try and get into Brennan's mind for a little bit and help her. Because undoubtedly she was going to try and cover everything up and make it go away. She'd bury it down in her heart with the rest of the hurt and pain that she carried and let it weigh her down all the more. Angela wasn't sure if she could bear to see that. She wanted to make sure Brennan did not go and do such a thing. And this time she felt like she had to be the one to do that.

Then there was Booth. May he be blessed for the long, long road he would have ahead of him. He had messed up, certainly that was obvious for anyone to understand. As it was, Angela had a hard enough time forgiving him considering what he had put her very best friend through over the last few weeks. But Angela saw the good in people. She understood that although their intentions may have backfired in their face and broke their nose they did have good motives before hand. Brennan did not see it like that though. She only saw the way people can hurt her and that what happened is what happened. Anything else doesn't really matter or alter anything. It was all just plain and simple in her world. She liked things rational and logical, truthful and plain, black and white. Brennan did not like the in between stuff or the heart stuff. Just the brain. But Booth was all heart. He used his heart when he made the decision he made even though that very decision broke his heart in two in the process.

Her thoughts and contemplations are pulled away from her attention drifts over to Brennan who has let out a small, painful sounding groan, before opening her eyes. Angela wasn't sure if she should say anything to break her friend's silent reverie or not, unsure if she had even adjusted to her surroundings yet. Everyone knew that drugs slowed down the way you processed information to the pace of a snail.

"Hey, Bren," she says quietly, watching as Brennan's head swivels over to find her eyes and staring into them. They looked scared and sad, like a lost little girl who just wanted her mum back. Now it was Angela's turn to have her heart torn in two.

"Did he leave?" Brennan asks quietly, and Angela is unsure if it is due to her being sad and scared because of it or if she just could not speak that loudly at the moment. Her voice is all scratchy and broken and it surprises Angela. She had not expected Brennan to sound different, of all the things she had thought of. Was that from the tube they had shoved down her throat, the thing that looked so uncomfortable but was keeping her alive at the same time.

"Booth?" Angela asks even though she already knows the answer. "No, no sweetie. He just went to get some dinner and let me have a turn to sit with you a bit. He didn't leave," she clarifies at the end, wanting to make sure Brennan knew he was still here. For her, because of her. It was important she knew. "I can go get him for you," she offers, willing to sacrifice a bit of time with Brennan for the possibility of her and Booth to patch things up and perhaps move beyond this stand-still they have been at for so long now.

"No!" Brennan whisper-yells, the sound gravelly yet still broken. "I'd like for you to stay with me if that is okay." She tries to cover up her previous panic now by playing it off in a different way. Angela knew how she worked. But she accepted it and simply smiled softly at her.

"Sure thing, Bren. How are you feeling?" Angela tries to keep any pity or sympathy from entering her voice, knowing Brennan would very much appreciate for things to not be changed and for people to not start walking on egg shells around her.

"I am in pain, which is to be expected all things considered, but I am trying not to fixate on it."

"There's a button right there to help you when with the pain, you know?" Angela knew the answer already though. Of course Brennan knew. She simply just did not want to submit to the pain and have to admit that she needed some help in order to alleviate it.

"It is not that bad," she mutters quietly and then attempts to clear her throat. Angela goes to hand the cup of water to her but when she sees how badly her hand is shaking opts to just help her instead, ignoring Brennan's pride for her overall well being. "Thank you," she whispers again, looking down in shame.

"I'm so sorry, Bren," she says and tears automatically pool in her eyes, the same guilt from earlier returning.

"What? Why are you apologising to me?" she asks with sudden confusion clouding her face, her eyes doing that thing they do when she doesn't understand something. Angela could almost hear the "I don't know what that means" in the back round.

"Because all of this never should have happened! I shouldn't have left your apartment that night and then just leave you on your own when you were in so much trouble. I was supposed to keep you safe. My job was to protect you..." she fades off, realising she has said too much.

"Who said your job was to protect me?" Brennan had clearly forgotten all of what Angela had said, not even bothering to mention that she should have been perfectly safe with two agents outside of her apartment. But a curiosity presented itself that was much too strong to deny.

"Don't be mad at him. He just wanted to make sure you were safe." Damn it! She screams in her mind, now aware she had gone too far again. How could she explain that she knew Booth was leaving before he did? How could she admit that she had spoken on the phone with him and never said a word about it?

"Booth?" she says again and she shakes her head, confusion was mixing everything up and none of it made sense. "I-I don't know what that means."

"Bren, just relax," Angela tells her as her heart rate raises a little. She didn't understand what was going on at this point. All she had known was that Booth had abandoned her and then some serial killer came after her. All of this other stuff was just appearing and all really suddenly. "You need to relax."

But she couldn't relax because the room was spinning and everything hurt and nothing made any logical sense to her. She, the rational empiricist, didn't have any rational explanation to fall back on at the moment. She was confused and hurt and she didn't like to be either. "I don't understand," she mutters and the pain in her leg keeps on growing and growing as the time passes and she is pretty sure that's where all of the black dots are coming from. "It hurts," she says, either to herself or to Angela, but she doesn't want to hit that stupid button because that means defeat. She didn't want to give in.

Angela reaches over Brennan and fumbled in the sheets for a second before lifting the button and pressing it, watching the pained expression on Brennan's face fade as she drifted back into sleep. Forgetting all of those questions and worries for just a little while longer.


	24. Chapter 24

**Am I the only one who is a little surprised that this is twenty-four chapters already? It doesn't seem that long to me. I'm glad you guys have stuck around this long for it! I do hope this chapter is okay as I am a bit unsure of it. Please let me know your thoughts. Oh, and who else is beginning to go a bit crazy considering the season finale is tomorrow? I think we all know it will probably end on some awful yet amazing cliff hanger. Okay, now I am just rambling.**

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Questions, that's all there was in her mind was questions. She wanted answers, but she hardly even knew what to ask in order to get them. Nothing made sense, none of it added up and that just made her more frustrated. Temperance always had the answers, ever since she was younger. When she was a kid she knew just how to answer the questions about Christopher Columbus and her times tables. When she was a teenager she lost the ability to just have the answer to everything. Suddenly there was a big, gaping hole of information she did not know and could not obtain, so, to make up for it, she became the best student in her school. She began to find answers everywhere else, in anything she could. If someone had a question, or even they were just doing something wrong, she could tell them the truth. She could always explain to them how something worked or where something went. She soon became a genius, and that knowledge helped fill up the hole of what she didn't know. Soon she could pretend it did not bother her any more, and that she was now once again whole.

All through her life there were questions she could not answer, nor would she ever be able to answer them herself. But she learned to just channel all of that into gaining intelligence from other areas and grasping wisdom from different subjects. That was how she began coping with things and it would work for her for the most part. Because Temperance, she was an answer person. She wasn't the question person. She never went around asking about who or why or when. She was the one who could give you those answers and even more.

Right now though, in this dazed, painful moment, she had no answers and dozens of questions. All of those questions circled back to one single individual, one person who could give her the knowledge she craved. Booth. When he left, nothing had made sense to her. He just vanished from her life and she did not even know what to think about it. It was just like her parent's disappearance in a way. She had grown accustom to him being there, every day, all the time and no matter what. He hadn't said goodbye, gave no indication that he was leaving, and then suddenly he was gone. At first she waited for him, just as she had done for her parents. Expecting him to just return into her life again and say that his car had broken down or his cell phone died, any lame excuse that meant he hadn't just abandoned her was fine. But that never did occur. Soon she was isolating herself, going down a path of destruction, because she was simply certain that he was never returning.

And now, three and a half weeks later, he was back. At her hospital bedside like he had never disappeared and had been at home doing all he could to find her and keep her safe just as he always did. That brought up a series of questions all on it's own. Why was he back? Where had he gone? Was he back of guilt? Did he miss her? Why didn't he call? It was all bad enough in and of itself. But then Angela had to start with saying all of those crazy comments, the ones of being in charge of protecting her and that Booth wanted to be sure she was safe. It didn't make sense, it did not add up. If he wanted her safe then why leave? Why did he decide she needed to be protected? And why in the world had Angela not bothered to tell Brennan that she apparently knew he was leaving before he actually had?

Her head just hurt more from all of the circles it was making, all of the confusion it was facing. This was not how she liked things. Nothing was clear cut. Where were the facts? And what the hell was the truth this time around? She felt manipulated and lied to and oh so lost. And that made her angry. Sure it made her hurt and sad and confused but more than anything else it made her mad. She hated being tricked and played and especially lied to, and that seemed like exactly what had happened. The thing that made her most upset though, was that it was by those who she loved most and of which, she thought, loved her. It was upsetting to say the least and as she laid with her eyes closed and heavy in a hospital bed with God knows who by her side now after she had slept again. Temperance felt like she was reverting back to her fifteen year old self. Lost, confused, abandoned and broken. And she hated every bit of it.

She let down her guard when she let Booth in. In a way, it was her fault for trusting him the way she did. She put her life in his hands, that was a part of the job description. No one ever said anything about putting her heart in his hands as well. That was a personal choice, although not so much a choice as it was an inevitable occurrence of events. She fought so hard and for so long to keep him a way, it took years to let him in just little by little. But that constant being there, never letting her down, always giving to her when she didn't ask and had nothing to offer back, all of it brought her to simply come to depend on him. She hadn't wanted to.

She never even could admit it to herself before, denying that her emotions ever came to light and changed the way she was. Her emotions were exactly what drove her to do exactly what she had done. Her constant dependence on logic, the never ending desire for the truth, the belief that feelings meant nothing, she believed those because of her very own emotions. She tried to ignore them and make them go away. She hated the hurt they brought, the sadness that came along with the joy. She would prefer to never feel any of the spectacular things that emotions could bring at all then to feel all of the horrible things that came along with them. If she stayed simply platonic and cut off, then nothing could touch her. She didn't want anything to touch her.

But Booth did. Brennan just wasn't sure if she was angrier at him for wedging himself in close to her and exploring parts of her heart and mind that no one we ever intended to see. Or at herself for letting him.

Booth was glad once they had moved her from ICU to recovery. There was something about this smaller, shared room that made the whole situation seem less like death was right around the corner. Booth would hate to remember how many times he had heard heart monitors beep wildly, alerting the surrounding caregivers of the verge of life and death the patients were at. He didn't care to here about cranking up shock machines or hearing people sob. It was too much, being in such proximity to a place dedicated to death. Especially when it meant that his Bones was right there with them.

She looked so much better without the tube down her throat and some of the IV lines had been taken out of her. A reassurance had been placed in him once he had seen her awake and talking, the fragile vision suddenly not so horrific now that he knew she would be waking up again.

He had saved Brennan numerous times, more than he would like to think about. Booth really wished she would stop getting herself into those situations to begin with. He'd shot a man and then pulled her from the hook and held her close, that first connection between them as he held her to him and comforted her, suddenly realising what he had gotten himself into, something much deeper than a liaison partner of the Jeffersonian. He has viciously dug through the sand and searched fervently for her after she'd been buried alive. He has taken a bullet for her. He has killed a man that was in pursuit of an attack to her. He has threatened gang bangers, he has carried her from a taxi, he has protected her from crazed serial killers. Booth was called a chauvinist, an alpha-male, a protector, but really he had no other choice but to keep her safe. It was never an option in his mind because he simply could not allow harm to come to her. But there was something about seeing her body lifeless and limp, no response from her as he cried her name, that would stick to the front of his mind forever.

His mind drifted from his thoughts as she awoke, eyes foggy with sleep and laden with that just-waking-up confusion. She just stared up at the ceiling for a while, not moving her gaze or saying a word, just staring lifelessly. "Hey, Bones," he says cautiously to her, hoping not to startle her. "Do you need anything?" comes out from his mouth automatically. He wants nothing more than to make her feel better, to even take her place in that bed right now for her. Because she didn't deserve to be there.

"No," she answers simply, no emotion in her voice, just a plain answer to him.

"How do you feel?" he asks next, looking her over with a sceptical eye, as though he could actually tell how she was from looking at her. In all actuality, all he could tell is that it'd be a while before she was walking again.

"Fine," she says in the same monotonous tone. "I'm fine."

"Bones-" he starts before being surprisingly interrupted.

"Don't call me Bones," she says with a sudden force and determination, one Booth had not expected. She hadn't said that to him in years. She _loved_ being called Bones. She may as well have told him that she did at this point. Because he knew she did.

"What?" is his dumb and confused answer. He should have more to say than that, and yet he doesn't. In a way he understands that she is angry, he had hurt her, but her refusing her nickname was...Unexpected, to say the least.

"Don't call me Bones," she said, not raising her voice as she would have done in the past, thinking that someone had simply not heard her. No, she knew he had heard her. He knew that she did because Brennan wasn't as clueless as she pretended to be sometimes. She did understand, but she pretended that she did not for her own protection.

"But you are Bones. That's your name." Was she really doing this? Of all things right now _this _is what she wanted to discuss?

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan," she says in the most official sounding tone she can probably handle with her voice being as scratchy as it is.

"Bones..." he starts but decides to do it her way for right now. "Brennan," he can't help but think of how wrong it sounds as he starts. "Listen, we need to talk. A lot. Please, don't just shut me out. Let me explain."

She looks at him, her eyes blank, her expression empty. It is haunting, the way she looks. She hardly ever looks at him likes that. He always saw something in her eyes. Joy, pain, hurt, love, something filled them up and made her all the more beautiful. Seeing her staring with such empty eyes was heart breaking. "I do not think there is really much to be explained, Booth. You do not have to stay here. Feel free to leave."

He feels disappointment and sadness from hearing how cold her voice sounded. She was speaking so clinically, he knew nothing but rational figurings were going through her mind right now. "I get that you're mad at me, I'm mad at myself, and trust me, Bones, if I could do it over again I would do something else! Nothing like this was ever supposed to happen. You were never supposed to get hurt." His voice is cracking as he speaks, breaking just like he was. He needed her to understand what all of this meant. That he never, ever wanted anything for her except absolute joy.

"I'm sorry if my injuries have brought on some unwanted guilt for you. You are more than free to go again now, Booth. I don't want you here."

He looks at her, trying to gauge just what it is she is saying. There was no emotion present in her, nothing to signify she was feeling anything in her heart right now. She was blocking herself off from being effected by this situation. He could handle it though. In fact, he was already partly expecting it. He'd done the unimaginable to her and clearly she wasn't going to just making small talk with him as he sat at her bedside, asking him for cups of water and sharing her pudding. He had to make her understand at least a little though. It was not as though he could simply give up without a fight. "I never wanted to leave you, Bones!" he exclaims in desperation to her.

"Well I want you to leave now," she whispers to him, her eyes downcast as she fiddled with her bed sheet.

"Let me talk," he pleads with her, not ready to leave her, not wanting to give up before they could patch things up just a little.

"No. Leave."

"Bones," he says, unbelieving as he watches her flinch at the word. "Please."

"Do I need to call a doctor to escort you out?" she asks him in a tone that pretty much screams not to mess with her.

"I'm so sorry," he says, not allowed to say any more as he walks from her room, leaving her yet again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Sorry guys, this one is a bit shorter than usual. Between work and my sister's graduation I didn't have time to add more to it. I do hope you like it. Let me know what you think. **

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Brennan hated relationships. She hated love and trust and forgiveness and all of those ridiculous, messy and useless emotions. They just made things complicated when they did not need to be. They were a nuisance. And she did not have the time or patience for such pointless and foolish distractions. She did not want to be bothered with it any longer. After all, it is just something of which leads to pain. Why in the world would someone consistently put themselves in such a position of which they could simply be harmed, time and time again. Stupid people, that is who. And Temperance Brennan was genius, not an idiot.

There were these people though, these people that liked to constantly tell her love and trust made life worth it all. They told her that it makes you who you are and brings your heart (metaphorically speaking) to life. They made it sound wonderful, perfect, beautiful. When in fact it was nothing but lies. They were manipulating the situation to make her see it their way. In all actuality she was right though. After all, she was the genius. She was the one who saw things with logic and determined the situation through her rational findings as opposed to absurd feelings.

She needed those people to stop trying to block her logical mindset and destroy her way of life. She was not distant or cold as everyone thought, but merely more intelligent than all of those around her who were not wise enough to be content with what they have in life. She had a wonderful job, a brilliant mind, a best selling book series and plenty of money. She lived a very fulfilling and useful life. She did not need any singular person beside her in order to make her life more significant or pleasant. She was happy by herself.

That is the reason why her previous partner Seeley Booth could no longer be with her. He was one of those people who kept trying to change her and make her "open up" or "live life to the fullest." He was ruining everything she had worked so hard for, all of that rational thinking she was so prided in having. His involvement in her life had to cease. If anything were an indication of this need, it would be what had happened over the past few weeks. That is not how she should behave nor is it how she should feel. Besides, it is not as though her presence in his life was importuned. He clearly did not need her around at all, or want. Surely he would be fine on his own and even so she had no obligation to him to carry on with their partnership any longer.

Her damn involuntary tear ducts filled, they managed to track down her face without any consent from her mind. She was grateful no one was in the room currently. She could not allow anyone to see her like this any more. Brennan wanted to be done with all of these tears and all of this hurt. She was never supposed to experience this again. After her childhood, her parent's voluntary disappearance, she swore to not allow herself to be fooled ever again. Yet she had, and she hated herself for it.

She didn't want to love him, care about him, hold a reverence for his life and well being. She did not want to miss him. She could not handle these things, they were not for her. She was about science. The truth, facts, laws, answers, no curious unknowns allowed.

Isaac Newton's third law: For every action there is a reaction equal in magnitude and opposite in direction. Meaning with love came hate, with joy came suffering, peace came with turmoil. It meant expectations came with disappointment and with trust came the constant ability for someone to break you apart. It meant that the more she loved the more she would be hurt, the more she trusted the harder she would fall. She was one to live her life by science and this was a scientific fact. Why should she try to dispute a known fact to only be let down repeatedly?

Her most reason bought of foolishness had left her with a pain in her heart and a hole in life itself, further proof to carry out this fact. It was not worth it, she knew that even more now despite the words that still echoed in her head. _"It is worth it and everything surrounding it is worth it."_ Booth had been wrong. He may see it as worth it in his life, may believe that love could conquer all and that only significant others could make life whole, but he was wrong. Perhaps it may just be wrong for her specifically. It may just be her own fault. Her own disability to accept all of those ridiculous things for what they were and live them to the fullest. Maybe she was just incapable of being loved the way some people are, forever.

"What do you think you're doing?" Angela demands as she comes bursting through the hospital door. Suddenly, the calming Angela was long gone and had now been replaced by full on dramatic Angela.

"I'm using my brain, Ange," is all she bothers to reply with, not even trying to pretend to not understand what she is talking about.

"Do you know what he did for you? Do you know he nearly got himself killed to try and keep you safe?" Brennan's head was pounding enough already from the stress and injuries on their own, she hardly needed someone yelling at her.

"No, I do not know anything about that matter but as far as I have come to gather it would so appear that you knew plenty about this." Her voice was harsh, taking on the same tone she had with Booth earlier. She felt lied to by those of which were closest to her, as though all of this information was being kept from her this entire time. "I don't appreciate being lied to."

"Bren, listen, no one's been lying to you. It is all a really long story and Booth himself should really be the one to explain." Brennan sent her a glare, ignoring the pain that shot through her neck as she turned her head so sharply.

"I don't want to hear stories or explanations or excuses. I am perfectly fine and would really like to be alone so I could rest now." She flopped her head down on to the pillows, closing her eyes and keeping them shut.

"Don't start doing this. Compartmentalisation is not going to just change things. You don't know half the story."

"Angela," Brennan says, her voice raising a few decibels and therefore aching her throat some. "Right now I do not need lectures. I am a grown woman and have severe injuries. All I wish is to heal properly so that I may return to work as soon as possible. If you intend to stay here then I suggest you leave this subject alone as I do not desire to discus it."

"Sweetie...Okay," she agrees, clearly giving it some thought and figuring the best course of action. "Just don't shut him out for too long. I know he hurt you, but he really deserves to give his side of the story."

"I want to rest," is all she says and then closing her eyes again, trying to pretend she was about to drift off to sleep. All the while ignoring the pain coursing through her body and shooting through her heart. She exchanged pondering over Booth's most recent actions for a debate with herself over taking the pain medication or holding on to her pride, whatever semblance of it was left anyhow, and trying to stick it out.


	26. Chapter 26

**I hate this chapter. I must have edited it about four times and I still just hate it. So I'm sorry, but next chapter you should be expecting some angst and some developments so just stick with me, alright?**

**Oh, and I forgot to mention last chapter but uh, wow, what a finale right? I've heard people who hate it, love it and some who are just indifferent to it. Thoughts? Opinions?**

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"I want to leave," Brennan proclaims to Angela for about the third time today. She tried fidgeting in bed, asked to get up and walk around (and had only become more upset when she discovered she would have to stay in the wheelchair until the stitches in her arm had been removed.) Despite the medicine, and what must be excruciating pain, Brennan was still restless. Angela had tried to compensate her with magazines and even brought her laptop to her, but it still did not seem to help. She kept talking about work. Spouting of comments like "When I get back to work I can examine those remains" or "I would be able to identify the injury if I were able to go to work." Angela was trying to make it clear that Brennan would not be returning to work for at least a few weeks.

Angela herself was definitely drifting into absolute exhaustion. She'd pretty much been at the hospital since Brennan had gotten here which was now going on two days. The first night in ICU, and it was nearly midnight now. Brennan was pushing for her to go home, saying how it was unnecessary for her to stay behind just to watch her sleep. Angela just hated the idea of leaving her alone though.

Cam and Michelle had stopped by earlier, bringing flowers and balloons which left Brennan crinkling her brow in confusion as to how they would aid her recovery. Sweets and Daisy had brought a card, but both were quickly escorted out by Angela as soon as Sweets started his psychological thing. Hodgins had been in to see her and, as far as Angela knew at this point, was still waiting out in the waiting room for her. And poor Booth, he had looked so dejected as he sauntered out into the waiting room, taking a seat and slinking down. His own face was scrunched up in pain as he did so.

She felt for the poor guy. They all knew he had done the wrong thing and Angela very well understood how much it was hurting and affecting Brennan, after all she had been the one around to watch it all unfold, but there were still two sides to every story. And even if Booth had made some horrible, disastrous mistake he should be allowed to make it right. Brennan was too damn stubborn to let him though. That was one of the reasons Angela felt she needed to smack her across the head a little and whack some sense into her...Literally.

But then there was Brennan's side. The one where she had been horribly hurt and brutally heart broken. It was the story where someone had been let down, and so that person closed herself off from love. Only Brennan had already lived through that once, that story was supposed to end with eternal love and happiness. How is it fair that someone should have to live through it twice? How is she expected to still use her heart when it just keeps getting beaten up? And in her mind Booth just left her by choice, which he did in a way, and that hurts her even more. She doesn't want to listen to it because now she has to close herself off from love twice as much, refuse it with everything she has in her because in her mind, especially now, nothing good will come from it. So Booth just tore her apart even more than she already had been. And that was something that left her wanting to smack _him_ across the face and literally whack him with sense. But she couldn't do that either.

So when it all came down to it she wasn't even sure what it is that she wanted to do or what needed to be done. Obviously Booth and Brennan had to make up, and then kiss and make passionate love and then have each other's babies (in her alternate world of true love and fairytale endings that's how it worked anyway), but when it came to right here and right now, she didn't know what to do. Did she press the issue on Brennan more? Did she tell Booth to give her space? There wasn't just a right and wrong here this time, there was all of that in between stuff that no one likes to deal with, and, in the end, she was right in the middle. And she couldn't even complain about it because she is the one who put herself in the middle of this in a way. Sure, Booth volunteered her and she was the one who was pushing Brennan about it, but mostly she had wedged herself in the middle from the very beginning.

"Sweetie, you know it is going to be at least a few more days."

"You need to go home, Ange. It's late." Brennan looked to the clock hanging on the wall, staring at it a second as though she wasn't sure what it said. Clearly the pain killers were working well. "It is past midnight and you look exhausted."

"Since when did you know what it looks like when other people are tired?" Angela challenged pointlessly. She was already thinking about asking for a cot to lay on in the room tonight. Sleeping at right angles was just not a good idea for her.

"There are many physiological markers that an individual is in need of sleep. Several-"

"Alright, Bren," Angela interrupts before she goes full out lecturing anthropologist on her. "How about I stay tonight and come back tomorrow. Just to keep you company in case you can't sleep of course." She says the last part in her most convincing tone, trying to make it sound perfectly logical that she would stay the night just in case she may need to provide entertainment at two in the morning.

"That is not a good idea at all," Brennan disputes quickly. She looked for actual logic, tones that suggested logic never swayed her opinion.

"I don't want you alone."

"Why? I am going to be sleeping and am surrounded by doctors and nurses. I hardly need a babysitter." She stared back at Angela with a deep determination in her eyes and Angela knew already that, no matter how much she fought it, tonight was one of those nights when she was going to lose.

"I'll be back in the morning," she says and begins to gather her things. "And please, don't fight the meds, Sweetie. They're here for a reason." She leans in and tries to hug Brennan the best she can despite all of the wiring and injuries. "Get some rest, alright?" Angela waves a goodbye as she disappears from the room and makes her way back to the waiting room where she found a passed out Hodgins and an obviously anxious and uncomfortable Booth.

He looks up at her with hope in her eyes and she wishes she could tell him that she had talked to Brennan and things would be okay, that he could go on in and explain himself to her and then he could sit at her bedside and hold her hand. Because, let's face it, him sitting with her was just so much more romantic than for Angela to sit with Brennan. "She's sending me home," she tells him truthfully and his body sags back into the chair.

She walks over and pokes Hodgins, he looks up at her in a daze. "You didn't have to stay," she tells him since, even though she may appreciate it, he was still just her colleague. And colleagues shouldn't have to sleep in waiting room's because their colleague's friend is in the hospital.

"I had to make sure Booth didn't beat anyone up or put a hole in the carpet," he tells her with one of his smiles and she feels like she's falling back a couple years for a moment before shaking her head and telling him to give her a ride home.

She stops before Booth, sending him a pity glance and patting him on the shoulder. "Just keep trying. She'll come around."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admits and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"She's been hurt. You know that, I know that, the security guard at the Jeffersonian knows that, and when Brennan gets hurt she's going to go through all of those logical safety preventions to try her damnedest and keep it from happening again. So she fell off the bicycle and now she's refusing to get back on."

"When Parker fell off his bicycle I got him back on by bribing him with ice cream. I don't think Bones is going to go for that one." He sighs and falls back in the chair and Angela offers him a sympathetic smile.

"You'll figure it out, big guy. Don't worry."

She turns and leaves, side by side with Hodgins and falls right to sleep as soon as she manages to sit down in his car.


	27. Chapter 27

**Oh goodness, so much angst. Don't you all want to just go read something fluffy and sweet after getting through this? I know I do. You'd think I would mix it up with some happiness every once in a while. Thanks again and let me know what you think.**

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Booth let his head lay back against the wall and shut his eyes. He needed to sleep, that was well known to him as he could feel the lack of rest beginning to invade his entire body. His reflexes were slower, his thought process going in useless circles. He wanted desperately to close his eyes and slip into a deep sleep, something of which could be easily accomplished considering that he was ready to fall asleep with his eyes opened. He fought it though, because there were still things that needed to be done right now and he wasn't about to submit to sleep until they had been taken care of.

It'd been a month and a half since this all had begun for him, three and a half weeks since it began for her. It seemed like everything progressed so quickly and drastically to him though. Like he blinked and from one second to the next entire lives had shifted. His, her's, Angela's, Hodgins', everyone on the team, everyone around them. They had all been effected in this mess of torture and betrayal and death. They lived through it all as well. Maybe not as close as others, but they still experienced the shift in the way of the Jeffersonian Institute.

He went from those horrifying sounds of the sadistic serial killer talking about killing his friends, partner and son, to running off in order to save them. He ran into the gun fire in a desperate hope to cause everyone to turn their attention to him and not to those he needed to protect. But he'd been tricked, from the very beginning it was probably all just some huge trap. Booth had known where he was going was inevitably going to end in his death. Because Refton, he was a damn smart bastard, and it was all apart of that sick plan. The one he had agreed to without Cullen's permission, not that his boss would ever allow it in the first place. Booth knew as soon as Cullen caught wind of it he would leave him on his own.

Booth had to do it though. There was no other choice but to do everything in his power to keep her safe, to keep them all safe. So he made the deal. An eye for an eye. Not the best code to live by considering the next bit is about the whole world going blind. Refton didn't work alone. The kidnappings and killings were his own, but it ran down further than that. They were like some club, almost like a gang only without the tattoos and rituals or initiations. They had this sick purpose to their killings, one about controlling women and rejoicing in their triumphant manhood. It wasn't an official group, they didn't have a name or a signature, and they always worked alone, but they were friends too. They would help each other out if the other was in trouble.

Booth had been sent to kill Refton, and Cullen had the faith to believe he could do so, which would be why the man had encouraged Booth to go as soon as the threats had begun. Well, first he had suggested using Brennan as bait but of course Booth quickly disputed that idea. It wasn't supposed to end in his death. Booth knew that it would though. Refton himself had spoken of it beforehand, tried to play mind games with him and throw off what he had intended to do. But Booth knew it was just a distraction so the bastard could try and get his hands on Brennan. And of course he did what he had to prevented that.

Where did that land him though? In some damn hospital waiting room, not able to be with the one person of whom he really needed to be with. Because she kicked him out. Not letting him explain, not allowing him to apologise and help her understand. Just kicked him out with out so much as a second thought, and he was annoyed and frustrated with it. After all, can you really blame him?

He stood up and walked straight into her room, no knock, no tentative "Can I come in?" He wasn't messing with that right now because he was upset and he was a heart guy. So the heart was taking over and he wasn't going to walk on egg shells around her. He had every intention of making his point.

She stares at him, her eyes soulless and empty. It's like she's not even feeling right now. Why couldn't she just stop all of that damn rationality and simply give him a break? "I don't recall asking for you to join me," she says with a voice of ice. She never spoke to him like that. Hell, she hardly even spoke to anyone like that.

"Just listen to me!" he yells out in frustration, his voice coated with anger as his patience slipped away from him.

"I see no reason as to why I would need to," she says coldly, plainly. There was no emotion, nothing but the words as they were and her logical way of explaining the reason why she would not talk to him. He knew that it had much more to do with her anger set towards him though.

"Because I've been your damn partner and friend for five years!"

Her eyes are fire when they look at him now, and for the first time since she had awoken he actually sees some emotion in them. "What kind of friend just leaves like that?" Her voice is cracked and broken and he sees new tears gather in her eyes.

"I was trying to keep you safe, Bones. You have to understand-"

"I sure as hell do not have to understand anything," she yells him venomously. "Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"I was going to die! I had every intention of going and dying and doing what I needed to keep everyone I loved safe."

"You think I want you to go and die for me?" she asks and her face is contorted in pain and sorrow. He hates the look she has, that he was the one to of caused it. "Why would you go and get yourself killed for me? What logical purpose does that serve?" she asked in her way of returning to her ways of logic and out of emotion. For the moment at least.

"This wasn't just about you!" Booth hates yelling at her, but he can't control himself so instead he just keeps going. "I was protecting the Squint Squad, my son, you were just one person, Brennan. It's not all about you!" He snapped. He knew he had and he was trying to refrain himself because in all acutallity he had gone for her. She was a big part of the reason why he had left, to keep her safe. But now she was laying there, accusing him of being this horrible of thoughtless person and he was sick of being under attack. If she wouldn't listen to what he really had to say then he didn't need to tell her about it.

"So that's it? I'm not important enough to even tell you're leaving?" Her tone screamed hatred but her words screamed hurt. "Clearly Angela was worth telling."

"Bones, listen it's complicated and I just want you to let me explain. Please," he pleads with her, his eyes staring into her's and seemingly challenging her. He wanted to make her listen to him. To make her hate him less and see he really did have her best interest on mind when he did what he did. She needed to know that ultimately she was so incredibly important to him that he was giving everything up to try and keep her safe.

"I don't need you, Booth," she says, changing the subject suddenly and drastically. He went along with it, he wanted to know what she had to say. "I don't need you to go playing hero."

"I had to. Just...Let me explain." He prays she'll say yes, ask him to explain himself to her. Then they can work on going back to normal.

"I can't just look past this right now. I-Just not right now."

"Then when?" he persists, unwilling to give up even though he's felt defeated ever since she first sent him away. "When will you let me explain?"

"I can't properly assess the amount of time of which-"

"Temperance," he says her name, slow and sweet, wanting her to stop hiding behind her intelligence, even for just this moment. "Stop."

"You asked me a question." Her voice is definitive, explaining the obvious to him, making sure he understood correctly. "I am putting forth my best effort to provide you with an answer."

"Can't you just...Stop thinking?" he suggests, knowing already the incredulous look he will receive. "I mean, just let yourself open up and accept something without processing it a hundred times over?"

She shakes her head at him, tears slip out as she does. She's hurt and he's causing it right now. He's the one that caused it from the beginning. "No. I cannot do such a thing. To do that would be foolish. And I...I am not a fool."

"No, you're human. For once just-"

"Stop," she tells him now, holding her hand up in order to silence him. "I asked you to leave."

"You have me walk out of here I can't promise to just be at your beck and call when yo change your mind." He felt bad saying it, but he had to make a point, didn't he? Sure, he had hurt her but now she needed to listen and understand. If she couldn't let him do that then how was he obligated to sit in a waiting room for hours.

"I told you that you were free to leave me again," she tells him and her voice is somehow still strong, his mind immediately noticing that she seems it has him leaving _her. _He's not just leaving in general. He's leaving her. "Go ahead. I will not hold you back."

"It's not what I want. Is it what you want?" He takes a step towards her, finding himself right in front of her bed now, staring into her eyes with a passion, in search of an answer.

"I want..." she stops because she's at a cross road and she doesn't know which direction to take. She has her hard-headed stubborn side, more so the side that feels she needs protection from everyone and everything, including him in this moment. And then there was the side where she wanted him to be there. She didn't want him to leave her. That's why she was so mad at him for ever going in the first place. She wanted him here, with her. "I need to process, Booth. I need to work through this with a logical mindset."

"Then let me give you the facts. Let me help you make a decision as logically as possible." He's near in her face now, begging her, pleading her and at the same time pushing her too far. She was going to snap if he was not careful. "You like the facts, you live by them. Let me give you the truth."

She swallowed, her eyes searching his before tearing themselves away. "What if the truth is that...We can't be partners any more?"

His breath catches in his throat at the suggestion. She didn't want that. It was written plainly on her face she didn't, sewn into her voice as she said it. "That's your choice. And since you seem to have all of that rational thought process you can make it on your own I guess." He walks away from her, tearing his eyes from her stare and walking towards the door praying for her to call out and stop him, to bring him back to her. The only sounds he hears though are his footsteps and the door slamming shut as he leaves.


	28. Chapter 28

**Here we are again. I do hope you guys appreciate these regular updates. Now that I'm out of pre-written chapters I'm really working hard to make sure I get these done in time to meet my dead line. Thanks to all of you who read of course. Oh, and to horseninja who is an anonymous reviewer but has been around since the beginning. So since I can't reply to your reviews this is how I'm going to say thanks.**

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People made mistakes. People did wasteful and foolish things that created repercussions that no one so desired to live through. Every action had its consequence, its equal reaction. And right now, it being late at night and she being as exhausted as she was, Temperance Brennan was unsure if she could face these things. He'd walked away from her, but, then again, she had told him to. It took all of her training over the years of pushing people away to actually push _him_ away and let him go. She pushed him so far that he may never come back. He may cease to care about her, to bother with even showing up at the hospital after she had some how landed herself in one.

She may hate him right now, or she is at least certainly trying to although she may not be necessarily achieving it, and she had her pride of course. But this was deeper than pride, this was pain. This was the fear of rejection and abandonment. Pride was just a small factor in this equation. Brennan could not deny that she had pride, the thought of how weak she had been, and had allowed people to see her, over the past few weeks made her ill. All of this though, the metaphorical walls, the compartmentalisation, the logic, it all came from fear. Fear of love, of hurt, of being alone. If she chose to be alone than it could not hurt her, it was a choice. If she chose not to feel anything then it didn't matter, it was her decision. She hated to think she lived her life in fear, and she certainly didn't have the kind of fear most people carried, but the fear still controlled her. Isn't that what allowed her to let Booth just walk away from her?

She knew she loved him, she knew she needed him around, or at least the human side of her did, but those facts, those things that she knew, they scared her more than anything else. Because if she loved him, then he ultimately must have control over her. And he did. He had control over her. And perhaps that might not be such a horrible thing, were it not for the things that could come from control. Power is derived from control, and when a person takes that power and uses it with malice towards someone, it becomes abuse. Brennan had had enough abuse in her life, and even Booth hadn't meant to do any such thing by leaving her like he did, it felt like he had used his power for evil. It felt awful.

Her heart ached watching him leave, not literally of course, but her stomach did turn and her throat did close up and her eyes did fill with tears that near immediately spilled over. And that hurt. The very fact that he was willing to cause her that much pain, when he must seen it in front of him beforehand, and could still just walk away from her, that killed her inside. Booth never walked away from her. Ever. He knew what that did to her, how much it affected her. He understood that better than anyone else. Because he understood her.

She wanted desperately to call out to him as he walked away, nothing more in that moment did she want than to have him sit down next to her, hold her hand, and explain what it was he had to say. Because surely he did have a logical reasoning to it. But how could she let him in if he was willing to leave her again? How good could his reasoning truly be if this time he was only leaving out of lack of patience and his own frustration? Was he not who she thought he was? Or was she simply to blame for all of this?

She was the one with the inability to love. She was the one who, according to him, attacked his religion. She was the one who had taken his short disappearance and blown it far out of proportion. Maybe she really was the fool in this one and he hadn't done any wrong. Perhaps once she received his side of the story she would realise how childish she had reacted. But that didn't matter. No matter how much she was at fault and how much she might have taken things out of context, he still hurt her. He still broke her in a way she never believed he would. He lied to her, he betrayed her and just left her behind. And that stopped her from calling out to him.

She wiped her tears, ready to lay down and succumb to her exhaustion but, to her surprise, her father comes rushing in, his eyes filled with fatherly concern as he comes to stand beside her. "Tempe?" he asks in uncertainty. "Tempe, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad," she said, the word still foreign to her tongue after all those years of his absence. "Why are you here?"

"Booth called me, baby. I would've been here earlier had anyone told me sooner," he tells her and she feels guilty for a moment. In the middle of all of this she had not thought of letting her father know of any of this even once. In fact, she was grateful that he had not been alerted when she was abducted. Not everyone was trained like Booth and the team to handle the situations that were dealt to them.

"I'm sorry. Everything has just been...Really crazy." And that was certainly no exaggeration.

"You were abducted Booth said?" he asks and suddenly a wave of exhaustion runs over her just from the thought of explaining it all. She could barely grasp the story herself. "Where is Booth?"

"He left, remember?" is the automatic response. He had been one of those people who had seen her so distraught and pained after Booth had left her. He was one of the many people who saw her weak after her own partner had left her behind. "He just, went home for the night."

"Tempe?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she tells him and suddenly feels thirteen years old and is being bothered by her dad after having a fight with one of her friends from school. She just wanted to be left alone over the situation. "I'm just...I'm really tired."

"Okay," he says and nods his head as though contemplating his next move. "Mind if I crash here for the night? It's a long ride back home."

Brennan can't very well say no, not that she needed him to see her anymore pathetic than how she had been before. There was a certain element of peace that he brought when he was around, one that she was beginning to crave. "Of course, Dad."

"Alright, well...Goodnight, sweetheart."

Brennan offers him a smile, feeling awkward again, unsure of what to do or if she needs to say anything more. "Night, Dad. Thanks for coming." She says it to him, not just because it is the right thing to say or because it was what he probably wanted to hear, the sort of things Brennan had learned from Booth in situations like this, but because she was grateful he had come. She wanted him there for the moment. Because now, at least she wasn't all alone.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Angela exclaims after a very tired Booth finally answers his door, his hair strewn every which was and his T-shirt twisted on his body. He gives her a look of confusion and although he showed no signs of inviting her in she walks right past him. "You just went and left her alone like that?"

"Angela," he starts sighing hard and making his way to the kitchen to start coffee. "I was tired, sore and it wasn't like she would even let me say a word to her. I figured there wasn't any point in staying there."

"There wasn't any point?" she spits back angrily. "What do you mean 'there wasn't any point'! There sure as hell was a point and it's called Brennan's very, very fragile heart."

"She didn't want to see me, talk to me, anything. She wanted me gone." He flips the switch to the coffee pot on after dumping the grounds into the filter. "I couldn't just stay there. Like I said, I was tired and in a lot of pain. Those medicines whacked me out too."

"And it's all about you now?" She gets up in his face, even though she was a good three of four inches shorter than him. "How much pain do you think she's in after having her body beaten by a serial killer?"

"Hey!" he yells, refusing to just allow the blame of that be pushed on to him. "I did everything I could to try and keep her safe. I was ready to let myself die for her."

"Fine, fine, you're right," she tells him and nods her head in agreement, but she doesn't back down. "We can talk about the emotional pain she went through then. How much do you think it hurt her when she got some file saying her partnership had been terminated? How do you think she felt when Sweets called her asking what was going and she didn't have anything to say to him because she had no idea either?" His face twists painfully, but he stands his ground, neither of them dare back down. "Or how about how tired she was? Like the first night you were gone and she stayed up trying to trace your cell phone and stared at the signature on your form, trying to confirm that it wasn't your's because she was positive you would never leave her! She spent two days convinced you had been kidnapped. Only to find out you certainly had left her. No goodbye, no explanation; just vanished to God knows where! And she missed you and she wanted you around, but you weren't there. And she didn't sleep for days. I had to fight with her so much to get her to go home. Do you know what it's like to watch your friend go through that? Can you even imagine what this has been like for her?"

"I can't," he whispers and Angela swears he's about to cry because he's just standing there and his face looks as though someone has just punched him in the gut. "I-I never meant to..."

"Do you even give a damn about how she feels?" Angela gives it no rest as she continues yelling, and suddenly he looks so small and the height difference doesn't seem so big anymore. "Don't you even care about her?"

"Of course I do. Of course...Of course, I wanted to save her. I wanted to save everyone and keep them safe. I couldn't stand the idea of anyone hurting her. She was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be happy." He slumps down into a chair, feeling weak suddenly, and buries his head into his hands. "She won't talk to me, Angela. I gave her an ultimatum and she would rather have me gone than to talk to me."

"Don't you know a thing about her? She wants you to talk to her, stupid. She just can't right now."

He nods his head, knowing what she meant. Brennan wanted him there, but she was too afraid right now. Because now she was aware of what kind of pain he could cause her. And she the idea of anyone being able to do that to her was too scary, so she would fight it like hell. It was his job to fight harder though, his job to make sure she knew just how important she was to him.


	29. Chapter 29

**I don't know about this one but time is up and I really think the more I edit the worse it gets so just let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading.**

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"How you holding up?" Cam questions as she appears beside Booth, sitting down next to him in the waiting room.

"I'm...Fine," he lies. "You here to see Bones?"

"You know anyone else who's staying in the hospital?" she asks and Booth catches on to the stupidity of his question.

"Right."

"You don't look so good, Seeley," she tells him, staring hard at everything from the bags under his eyes to the slightly revealed bandage around his ankle. "Are you taking the medicine the doctor gave you?"

"I forgot this morning," he lies again, ignoring what he is sure must be a stern and skeptical stare.

"Maybe you should go home and rest before you get any worse off," she suggests although she is pretty certain of what choice he will make when it comes to that.

"I did," he tells her. "I just didn't actually get to the resting part very much."

"This isn't healthy."

"I know," he doesn't say anything more about it and nor does she. They sit quietly, staring dead straight ahead for a moment. "You can go on in and see Bones," he says, suddenly finding tension between the two of them that had not been there before.

"You sure?" she asks him and Booth's suspicions are confirmed. She was more so there for him than for Brennan.

"One of us might as well see her," Booth says with a hint of bitterness to his tone. She gives him a glance before getting up and walking to her room. He wanted to see his partner. He wanted to be with her and to hold her hand and to let her know that he wasn't leaving her again. He wanted her to know why he left to begin with and that his very last intention of what he was to hurt her. He never meant for her to feel abandoned. He just wanted her to be happy. She told him all the time that she knew how stupid he was and yet right now she didn't seem to acknowledge that into this situation at all. She was being stubborn and in the end he knew that she really had a right to be. He screwed up. But weren't people supposed to forgive and look past it? Wasn't that all part of relationships, messing up but also having someone who well let you explain your side of the story?

Then again, all they had was a friendship. Never had it technically reached a level romanticism. He felt, and he knew she did too, although she fought it like the plague, but it was something that they fought against. For years and years, ignoring that sexual attraction along with those feelings that were much deeper than that, feelings that led him to going off to kill himself in order to keep her safe. Which then landed him in a hospital waiting room.

Cam reappeared in front of him, but did not sit down beside him again. "Done already?" he asks since no more than five minutes had passed.

"We don't really talk about much. She mostly brings up work and talks of her return as though it will be tomorrow."

"Like hell it will," Booth mutters although he knows his opinion most likely lacks any real significance. If anything she'd just go and do the opposite of what he said. Out of spite, like a toddler would do.

"Seeley," she says slowly, as though building to something bigger.

"Camille," he replies after she stays quiet for a moment.

"I really think you should go home. Dr. Brennan will still be here tomorrow."

He scoffs, sick of the run around people were putting him on. "You tell me to go home and Angela tells me to get my butt back here. Bones tells me she doesn't want me here, and yet, apparently at the same time she does, but refuses to acknowledge it. I want an answer from someone. A straight-forward, simple answer. I really don't think that's so much to ask." He sighs, shifting forward and rest his head in his hands.

"What do you want to do, Booth?" she asks him, the first person to do so, the only one so far that seemed to care what it was that he wanted or how he felt. He didn't want a pity party or people fussing over him or anything but it certainly would be nice for anyone to even care the slightest about his side of the story. His thoughts, his feelings, his worries.

"I want her. I just...I want to talk to her," he admits, not that no one knew that before because of course they did. "And she won't let me."

"Dr. Brennan is stubborn," Cam says, like he had not learned that from day one of working with her. "But she's fragile, and she can only fight herself for so long."

Booth nodded feigning agreement. He was pretty sure she could fight him off for months, years, ever even. She could bury herself into her work until she really had no genuine desire to see him anymore. Then it would just be as though he was never around, never existed, never made any difference in her life. Where as the truth was he had made a huge difference in her life, difference of which he hoped were mostly good. "Yeah, I guess."

"I gotta get back to the Jeffersonian," she tells him and he nods his reply. "You hang in there."

He watches as she walks away, standing him up heading straight for his partners room, making a conscious decision. He wouldn't just walk out this time. He wasn't about to give her some ultimatum that she couldn't handle making. You can't rush her. He was the one who had told Sweets that all those years ago.

"Bones?" he says as a question as he pokes his head in her room, finding her awake and alone. She had an anthropology journal in her hands and a blank look in her eyes. She wasn't reading it. "Hey Bo-ones," he says again, dragging her name out in a teasing tone. He was desperate to get a response from her. "Can I come in?"

She looks to him and her eyes seem to come to life, a sadness filling them suddenly. To his absolute surprise she actually nods a yes, giving her consent for him to enter. He walks in and goes to the chair beside her bed. "Is your back hurting you?" she asks as she watches him wince as he goes to sit down.

"A couple of my ribs are broken," he informs her and slight panic seems to fill her eyes for a moment.

"How did you break your ribs?" she asks and her eyes roam over the rest of his body, as though to assess and see if there was any further damage.

"I didn't," he tells her and watches as her eyebrows furrow together and her eyes go all squint-y. He doesn't even need to wait for the question pour out of her mouth before responding. He knew her well enough to know her next comment. "Refton did."

Brennan stays quiet after he says that, just seems to think for a long while, not moving, not talking, just staring straight ahead and thinking. "Refton?" she breaths out and Booth notices the heart monitor pick up a bit.

"Yeah, him." His voice sounds a bit cold but he doesn't put effort into correcting it and making it soft and sweet for her as he usually did. He was still upset, in fact he was not entirely sure why he sat there to begin with.

"How did he..." she fades out and Booth softens some at the look on her face.

"Let me explain?" he asks, giving her both a hopeful and meaningful look. Surely she wouldn't say no to him again, she would not have asked him back here if that was her only intention. "From the beginning?"

She nods her head, as ready to listen as she will ever be. She wanted to know why he had left. And now she could. So she would stop fighting it, shut her mouth, and let him talk. She would listen and she would learn, and then maybe when the truth was revealed, maybe then they could begin to recover. She took a deep breath in and watched as Booth was doing the same, and then, then he began to talk.


	30. Chapter 30

**A little late tonight, but here in America we have something called Memorial Day. That means we get off work and kids get off school and then we grill meat (or corn on the cob for us vegetarians) and swim or something. So busy it's been a long, busy and un-progressive day in my world. I don't know how I feel about this. All I know is that you guys should be grateful because I was really close to ending it this chapter. I figured I needed to tie up any loose ends before I did that though. Thanks again to all who reviewed last chapter. Let me know what you think!**

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Brennan was conflicted even as she had nodded her head, indicating for him to begin his explanation. She was done fighting him off for no apparent reason, ready to allow her stubborn side to take a break and let her heart side, the part of her that yearned for him, take a moment of control. She was ready to listen, and perhaps eventually understand.

She had told him that she wasn't sure if they could be partners any longer. She allowed him to walk away even when he had given her the ultimatum. But she didn't like how that felt. She hated the idea of him being here, and yet, not being with her. She missed him too much when he was gone to just dismiss him now. It was one thing to have him want to leave her. It was an something entirely different when she was the one who sent him away. She didn't want to do that.

So here she was, laying in this damn hospital bed and waiting to hear this story, the one that could give her perspective, answers, truth. At least, that is what it seemed it promised. In all actuality it could very well be a disappointment. She was preparing herself for that possibility. Because people disappointed you. It happened all the time. She was ready for that to happen. But she did have faith in Booth. Though she would still deny that to anyone who asked. Especially at this point in time.

"I guess, I should start by just saying that I never wanted to leave you, Bones." He looks her in the eye and the sincerity of his voice rings out. He meant it, she could tell that sort of thing when she was reading him. And he wouldn't lie to her. She believed that. "Never." 

"Okay," she replies simply. She had every intention of staying as quiet as possible and refraining from interjecting. This was his story to tell. She wanted to let him tell it. "Go on. I'm listening."

"It started weeks ago, a good three weeks before I left," he begins, eying her wearily, curious to see if she will interrupt or if she was angry that he had not told her. "It was never my intention to leave. I want to stay. To me that was the best way to keep you safe. But then...Then things changed." He takes a breath and looks down to stare at his shoes. It had been hard enough for him to deal with this all the first time around but he was uncertain if he could handle telling it again. He knew he needed to though. He had begged to for days now. So he would. "It started with a letter. You know, the creepy serial killer letter of death."

She cracks a smile at his joke, her eyes forcing him to look at her. She needed to see his eyes. She could read his eyes like she could read bones. Whether it be sadness or joy, anger or pain, she saw, recognised it and helped him to deal with it. Those eyes were a book to her.

"I didn't think too much of it as it didn't say anything directly threatening. I just handed it over to Cullen and that was that."

"What did it say?" she asks, stopping him for a moment to fulfill her curiosity. "What did the letter say?"

"Just that uh...That it was my fault."

"What was?" she questions, wishing he would be clearer at times like these.

"I originally assumed that he meant the death of his victims," he tells her and can already hear her voice reprimanding him for assuming in his head. "But later I learned he meant what was supposed to of happened to you...What did happen to you I guess."

He tears his eyes away from her and looks over her body, the cuts and bruises seemingly having a neon light flashing to them. "It was my fault."

"Booth..." she says but fades off, not knowing what to say. Did this change anything? Was it possible that it could not? Not to mention how much more was there that she did not know.

"When he began to threaten you personally, I was entirely ready to stand guard at your side until we found and killed him. I never had any intention of leaving you. Hell, you'd be lucky to get rid of me."

_No I wouldn't._ She thinks to herself but does not say anything for she knew he had intended it as a joke. "What happened, then?"

"It became about more than you. It became about everyone. Angela, Cam, Hodgins, Sweets even, he mentioned you all, gave your addresses even. The day after that I got the photos."

"Photos?" She knew what that meant. They had worked more than enough cases that included receiving horrid photos of their victims. It was part of how some serial killers worked, inflicted paranoia and intimidation to those who got them.

"All of us," he tells her, remembering even himself in one of the photos with Brennan. She and him had been at the diner, him in the middle of some story or another and she with a smile growing on her face. If not for the creepy serial killer aspect of it, it would actually be a pretty good picture of the two of them. "The last one of the bunch though...It was of Parker. And that, that changed everything."

She nodded her head as though in understanding, like it all pulled together now. But it didn't. He was playing hero again, that much she knew now. Didn't mean she liked it though. "But why wouldn't you tell me? Why wouldn't you just let us help you?"

"If I had told you what I was going to do, that I was going to try and kill Refton which would most likely end in my own death, what would you have done?"

She looks down, as though ashamed of exactly what she knew she would do. "I'd have insisted you either not go or for me to go with you. I wouldn't just let you...Couldn't."

"I know," he replies simply, venturing to take her hand in his own. "And sure, I could have refrained from telling you about it all, call it an assignment from work. But, Bones, I thought I would die. I didn't think that, even if I managed to get Refton before he got me or any of you, that I would end up dead. And you...You would have blamed yourself."

"You can't possibly know what I would do," she defends, finding a need to fight back. "You don't know how I would react to any situation."

"Yes, I do. Because you're you. I know you, Bones." And it was like the ice the two of them had between one another began to melt, a fire taking its place. His hand gripped her's tighter and his eyes bored into her's with a deep intensity. "I know you," he tells her again and this time she drops her eyes and turns away.

"Still, you shouldn't have just left me, Booth. Don't you know that-" she stops short, cutting herself off from saying anything more.

"That what?" he urges.

"Nothing," she reflects, regretting her mind not fully processing before the words slipped out.

"That what, Bones. Tell me."

"That...You're not supposed to leave me. I've had my doubts with everyone, but you...You weren't ever supposed to leave me." She grabs her hand away from his grasp and wipes furiously at her eyes before tears could manage to fall. "And you did. You just left and you didn't let me have any say."

He knew she was returning back to anger because she was hurting, the emotions she was feeling was too much so she was compartmentalising those away and focusing on what she could in order to make it easier. "I'm selfish."

Her eyes suddenly fly to his again with surprise being the outlining to them. "I am confused now."

"I knew if I cut off access to you he'd go for Parker or someone on the squint squad. I knew that you were what he wanted though. Because you're everything he hates. And I couldn't keep you all safe and at the same time I couldn't let anything happen to any of you. Bones, I just, I couldn't live in a world without you in it, as cheesy as that sounds, it's true. I'm selfish."

She understands what it is he is saying, comprehends how he feels because surely she could not deny that she felt a bit the same. She wanted him in her life, otherwise it simply was not complete. She'd been a mess, a damn weak mess. "I can't do this all right now. Just...stop, please. Stop?" She tries her best to take a breath and get herself under control, doing her best to hold it together for the moment.

"Okay," he agrees but retakes her hand in his. "We can stop for now. But could you promise me something?"

Brennan contemplates it, going between not wanting to agree to something she did not know about and wanting to reassure him in some way. She hated the look in his eyes, the tone in his voice, and yet she was still angry with him, still unsure of what to do. It was all too much at once. "Yes?"

"Not to kick me out until I'm finished?"

She squeezes his hand as he holds on tight. "I can do that much," she promises and feels relief and happiness fill her for just a second as he smiles at her. They would be okay. One day, some day, they would be okay.


	31. Chapter 31

**Another day, another chapter. Not too sure on this chapter, it feels kind of choppy to me. I currently plan to do a bit of a time jump next chapter, but then again who knows where the inspiration will take me. Thanks again to all of you!**

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They sat in silence for a long while, neither uttering a word and eventually Brennan drifted to sleep, Booth following shortly afterward and laying his head on to their still clasped hands. He was awoken when a nurse arrived to do who knows what with Brennan and he stood up, removing her hand from his and standing in the corner of the room as to allow the nurse to do her job. She switched IV bags, messed with some of her more severe injuries and then gave him a smile before disappearing from the room.

"Can't they leave me alone while I sleep?" she asks and Booth chuckles lightly.

"Sorry, Bones," he apologises to her, understanding what she meant. After his brain tumour it felt that he spent more time being being awoken than he did actually sleeping. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," she answers him plainly and he sees her face wince in pain as she tries to shift just slightly. "And sore. Really sore." He watches her crane her neck from one side to the other and can hear the sound of the bones cracking. His face contorts, grossed out by the sounds he was hearing.

"Can I help?" he offers, wanting to do something to help her feel better.

"Just sit back down," she instructs, and he does so. "What time is it?"

"Going on five," he informs her. "You hungry?"

"Stop trying to take care of me," she reprimands him, and then turns and offers him a slight smile. "I don't mean to sound so harsh. I just-"

"I get it, Bones. I know this is hard for you." Booth knew how much she hated relying on anyone else, let alone being in a hospital pretty much unable to do anything for herself. She didn't want to be babied, she wanted to do as much by herself as she could, that included making her own decisions on when she needed food or pain medicine.

"Booth?" she asks quietly and quickly his attention is directed entirely towards her. "I...I'm really sorry for, uh, for all that you went through and for...For kicking you out like I did."

"I understand. Just...let me stay now?"

"I can't promise to just forgive and forget now, Booth," she tells him plainly, ignoring his question entirely. "I can't really just look past all of this like it doesn't matter."

"I wouldn't ask you to," he says, grateful to just be sitting in that chair next to her. "I know that my leaving like that...I should've told you. Somehow, someway, I should've done something different."

She nods her head, agreeing with him. "Yes, you should have."

"So, I'm sorry," he reciprocates. "Do you want me to tell you anymore?" he asks, referring to his explanation that had been put on hold. He didn't want to push her, he already knew how that would work. They were going to go at her pace. In fact, he was proud of her for being brave enough to admit she needed him to stop.

"Keep going, I suppose. I have to hear it all at some point," she stares at him and this time she is the one to reach her hand out, eager to grasp his hand in her own. She holds on to it tight, like a lifeline as he begins. She knew this was going to get ugly, and she was going to hear some things that she did not wish to know.

"You sure?" he checks, not certain if he wanted to begin when she looked both so tired and so weak. If she was willing to wait to her it then he was willing to wait to tell it. Booth hoped there would be plenty of opportunities in the future to tell her about it.

"Go on," she encourages, giving a final firm nod of her head.

"Well obviously you know in the end I left, ready to go kill the son of a bitch who was trying to get you." He remembers a lot about his time in confinement, he remembers what it was like before he was captured as well. He could never shake the feeling of imminent death from his shoulders after that he did not think. "Saying goodbye to you with being able to say goodbye to you...It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do."

"You touched me a lot that night," she recalls, going back to that night of Thai food and jokes. "Your hand on my back, your leg pressed against mine on the couch, sliding my hair behind my ear when it got in the way, anything really."

"You noticed?" he asked, honestly not very much surprised. She was super smart, super beautiful and super observant. So pretty much he would never be getting anything past her.

"I didn't think much of it until..." She fades off, letting him fill in the blanks.

"Yeah, I just couldn't help myself. In my mind I would never see you again." He shudders at the memory a bit, how difficult it was to leave her apartment that night when all he wanted to do was pull her against him and hold on tight. "I didn't know if I could actually leave that night. I did, but it was hard."

Brennan stays quiet, just as she had before, listening and not talking. Because he had asked her to. She had questions, sure, but they could all be asked in due time.

"I thought everything was going to work out actually. I never anticipated getting captured."

"Then why did you-" she interjects, stopping herself when she realises that she is.

"Because Refton and these guys, they have this sort of pact. It's hard to explain, but before I managed to get my ass out of there I'd be dead."

"Are you in danger now?" she asks, suddenly concerned.

"I don't think so. I'm not sure just how much contact Refton and the guys had. He just ended up shot to them maybe, and maybe they know I killed him and want to come kill me. I'm not too concerned though," he tells her, a sudden swell of pride and ego showing through as he spoke. He was Special Agent Seeley Booth, he wasn't about to be intimidated by some sociopaths. At least he wouldn't be as long as he was sitting next to his partner in a hospital that was loaded with security.

"Oh," is all she says and gives him a look, waiting for him to continue.

"But I ended up being captured and well...You know what happens when he manages to get you I guess." Booth can't help but look her over again, it was a horrible sight but one he could not look away from it seemed. "Although I guess there was quite a bit of a difference considering you are in the hospital and I am the one sitting next to you."

"Why did Angela know?" she asks, ignoring his comment entirely. "Why were you able to tell her without a problem."

Booth sighs, looking back to her eyes and holding her gaze for a moment before starting. "I didn't tell the specifics. I told her to watch over you, to make sure you were safe. I never intended to call her after that. But Refton...He needed some computer information and he told me to call someone who could help me and not give anything away. After that I had an excuse to talk to her. I tried to stick with the information I needed, but it always drifted into conversation about you. I was so worried about you, Bones. You have no idea."

"I would most certainly think I do," she tells him with an edge to her voice. You just disappeared and I didn't know what happened. I thought you were kidnapped or killed or God knows what else. I was horrified when it first happened until I got that damn folder telling me that you were splitting our partnership and vanishing from the face of the earth apparently. Do you know what that was like for me?" She closes her eyes and takes a breath, trying to regain her composure. She felt as though she was going over this too much, she was tired of looking at all of her weak points. "Never mind. Just disregard that for right now. I want to know more."

"Okay..." Booth tells her although he wants to go on to say how sorry he is again and that he can't understand what that was like for her, that he never meant for it to happen to her. "You do know I left without saying anything so you could move on, right? I didn't want you to feel guilty, or sad, I wanted you to be happy. So damn happy that you didn't know what to do with yourself."

She shakes her head, annoyed that he could think that she would simply go from having him in her life every day and having him as her best friend and confident, to just forgetting about him and continuing on with her life like nothing happened. Like he had not abandoned her entirely. But at the same time she was beginning to understand he just wanted joy in her life. Perhaps he could not comprehend just what it was that he meant to her.

"I mean, not right away of course, but...Eventually," he stops, looking down at her and giving her a smile. "Doctors said you can go home the day after tomorrow maybe," he tells her, suddenly shifting the conversation to something a little lighter.

"I will be mostly immobile until they can remove my stitches." Brennan hated nothing more than that very idea. She wanted to get out of this bed, out of this hospital and out of this cast. She was past being done with injuries. "The doctor told me I cannot go home until I have healed enough to care for myself."

Booth looks at her with surprise in his eyes, this was the first he had heard of it. "Who is going to stay and take care of you?"

"Although I have not spoken with her directly on the matter I am sure Angela would be willing to care for me while I recover."

"Oh," Booth says somewhat disappointed, but also understanding entirely. They were friends, partners, and recovering friends at that. She had only now begun to talk to him a day ago. "If she can't do it," he begins, knowing full well that there was no reason Angela would be unable to help Brennan out but wanting to offer either way. "I could always come and help."

"Thanks, Booth," she says and he nods, neither addressing the matter any further. They sit in silence for a little while, unsure of what they should say if anything at all.

"So...They give you any pudding yet?" he asks her and she smiles brightly for a second at him. His heart feels lighter in that moment and he smiles back. "'Cause I was hoping you'd be willing to share."


	32. Chapter 32

**Okay, so here's the deal. I have tried my very best to be continuously consistent with the uploading of these chapters. I have pretty much met my every other day deadline which I would say is pretty good all things considered. However, I will be leaving to go on vacation Sunday afternoon. I am unsure how long it will take me to get Wi-Fi where I am going if I manage to get it all. I am fairly certain I will though. So my next chapter update may be a couple of days late, but I will try and write in the process so I will have two chapters to put up when that day rolls around. Sound fair? Anyhow, thanks again and enjoy the chapter.**

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"I hate this," Brennan muttered as Angela wheeled her down the hospital corridor, ready to be discharged two days later. The stitches would remain in her arm for another week so that would mean another week for her to remain in the wheelchair and she was not looking forward to it. She also did not refrain from being vocal over her displeasure.

"I know, Bren. But you are just going to have to suck it up and deal with it." Angela had tried to wheelchair proof her apartment as best as she could. Considering how cluttered the place had been it took quite a bit of cleaning to do.

She grumbled something more as she sat helplessly in the chair. The idea of someone being able to control exactly where she went not only made her feel incompetent but also somewhat horrified. She knew Angela would never purposefully harm her, but at the same time she had not been entirely dependent on another being in years and the last time she been in such a condition ended very badly. She had a need to be in control of her own actions, each and every one. Take that away from her and you may as well take her sanity away from her. "Where is Booth?" she questions, having become accustomed to his near constant presence.

The past couple had there ups and downs for the two of them. She found herself becoming irrationally angry at him or easily irritated, but then at other times she wanted him there more than she would ever dare admit. Right now was a moment when she wanted him there when earlier she had sent him away as they helped her make her transfer into the wheelchair.

"He's signing the discharge papers since you made him leave before," Angela reminds her with a slight harshness to her tone. Angela was supportive of the decisions Brennan made, as they were her choices to make, but under no uncertain terms reminded her what it meant to have Booth around and how much he needed to be around her. She needed him too, but she fought it and made sure to use her logic, meaning that at the end of the day Booth was the one who really needed to be with her.

"Is he driving us home?"

"I cannot lift you to and from the car so I guess he will have to." Brennan let out a sigh of complaint at the thought of having to be lifted from place to place along with the having to use the chair. She would be on the crutches now, if only they would allow her.

"Heya, Bones," Booth says as they make their way to the front desk. She smiles at him and he feels a rush of hope in him and smiles widely. "How're you feeling?"

"Grumpy," Angela answers for her. "She's very into complaining today."

"I feel fine," she says, ignoring Angela's comment entirely. "I'm just hungry."

"Perfect!" Booth exclaims with excitement. "We can go to the diner before I take you two back to Angela's."

Brennan doesn't respond either an affirmative or a negative, just nods her head plainly. "We need to get your prescriptions filled too," Booth says and takes over Angela's job of pushing Brennan in the wheelchair, moving her in the direction of the exit. He tosses the keys to Angela. "Bring the car up to the door," he tells her and she walks ahead of them towards the exit.

Brennan tensed once Angela was gone, her back suddenly going straight and her eyes fixated on her friend's retreating figure. When it came to Booth she might as well be labeled bipolar, or perhaps just all around insane. He kept quiet as they made their way to the doors, slowly moving her along. "You want to go anywhere else while we are out, Bones?"

"Work," she suggests, knowing full well that it is not an actual possibility.

"Mhm, how about a place where you will actually be able to go?" he stops as they reach their destination, standing in the sticky summer air as they waited for the SUV to arrive before them.

"No," she responds simply, finding no need in adding anything else. "Did you-"

"Call your dad? Yeah," Booth answers before she can even ask. When she turned her neck to look at him with a bit of surprise he just smiled down at her.

"How did you-"

"I know you, Bones." He can't help his smile as it grows wider across his face.

"Stop cutting me off," she grumbles but he can see the hint of an almost smile on her face. He was tempted to prompt her further to try and get a full blown laugh out of her but his ideas are dashed as Angela arrives with the car, hopping out of the driver's seat and coming around to where they stood, ready to fold up the wheelchair once Booth had Brennan out of it.

"May I?" he asks her out of consideration and she nods, allowing his arms to wrap around her and lift her into the vehicle. He sets her down gently in the seat and wants to reach across and do her safety belt for her. He refrains from doing so for her own sake though. He climbs in on his side and waits for Angela to get in as well before driving off. "So drug store, dinner, drug store and then home?"

"Sounds like the most logical course of action," Brennan responds. The car turns silent as they drive towards the local drug store, only sound filling it again as Booth stops and tells them he will be right back out.

"So have you forgiven him yet?" Angela questions blankly once Booth has left the vehicle. "Because I am certainly detecting some tension.

"It is going to take longer for us to get to forgiveness than just a few days," she tells her honestly. Brennan had no intention of just forgetting it all, she was not that kind of person. Especially not on matters like this or with people like him. These circumstances were original, not like ones many have felt. They were complex and confusing and loaded down with all sorts of emotion that threw her logical side all out of whack. She wanted things in proportion, for them to make sense. She wished dearly that this was a matter that did not require the use of emotions, that she honestly could evaluate this with simple logic. But emotions is what brought them here in the first place and emotion is what would continue to lead them.

"You could at least look at him," Angela suggests, shutting up as Booth climbs back into the front seat and quickly pulls out and drives in the direction of the diner. They get out, once again following their previous way of doing things. This time Angela takes over the steering and Booth takes the lead. They enter the diner and see that their normal table is taken.

"Set me there," Brennan tells Angela, gesturing to an open spot at a table that was also by the window, just as they liked it. Angela ignores the demand and walks over to a different table, pulling a chair away from it to leave an empty spot for Brennan. She is ready to protest at being so blatantly ignored, but the waitress arrives before she can do so, shooting them a pitying look.

"Well what to you poor dear?" she asks Brennan and then turns her eyes to Booth. "You too for that matter."

"We work in the crime business," he tells her like it explained everything. "Comes with the territory." She says nothing more on the matter but takes their orders and walks away, going back to her job. "Want some pie today, Bones?" he asks, his voice filled with teasing. Angela leans back in her seat, curious to see how this would unfold between the two of them.

"You know how much I do not like pie, Booth," she replies automatically, not looking up from her menu even though she had already ordered her food and probably knew it by heart.

"Well after my surgery some of my tastes changed," he tells her and that grabs her attention.

"You started eating pickles on your burger," she says and he nods, a small bit of shock in his eyes that she as noticed so minute. "And you didn't put nuts on your ice cream anymore.

"Exactly."

"Well that was brain surgery," she says, the tone in her voice obviously implying that the difference was so severe that she should not even have to say anything.

"I thought they operated on his hand," Angela pipes up and Brennan stares at her for a moment.

"No..." she says slowly. "He had, a brain tumour. They preformed surgery in order to-"

"Joke, Sweetie," Angela cuts her off before she can continue talking to her in that tone of voice she used whenever she felt that she was speaking of someone with less than average intelligence. "I was being sarcastic."

"Oh," she says and then turns her attention back to Booth. "Either way, I do not want pie." Sometimes it really confused her as to how he could finish her sentences but, at the same time, still tried to make her eat pie.

* * *

Later that evening they returned home, Booth moving her from the car to the bed and then pestering her with questions before finding himself in the living room, collapsed comfortably on the couch. "I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight," Booth tells Angela and she turns around and raises her eyebrows at him.

"If she had wanted to be with you, Booth, she would have asked," Angela tells him. "Not trying to be harsh, just..."

"Defending her. I get it, I get it." He sighs as he plops his feet up on her coffee table and took in the apartment. It was cluttered, but all the clutter had been moved to table and counters, whereas before Booth was rather certain it had been on the floor. There were some paint splatters here or there on the walls, carpet and even furniture. A collection of paintings, stacked one against the other in a corner of the room, seemed to just draw someone's eye to them. Booth knew how much her artwork varied, how different she managed to make each and every piece. It was actually pretty impressive to him. Although, considering that most of the art he saw was made by the hands of his eight year old son his judgment may not count. "What if she needs to use the bath room in the middle of the night? Or wakes up tomorrow morning and wants to get up before I can make it here."

"She does have on good leg," Angela reminds him. "I can be enough of a crutch for her to safely travel short distances."

"What if she decides she wants me here?" Booth asks, his own reasonings coming to light. He didn't want to leave her, and he certainly was not ready to return home to the emptiness of his apartment. He hardly had any furniture in there, not to mention no food.

"She would've asked you to stay if she did."

"You do know we're talking about Bones here, right?" She was much too stubborn to ever agree to such a thing.

"Booth?" They both hear called from the other room and he goes into the room immediately, shooting Brennan a look of question as he entered.

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Could you get me some more water?" she asks him, holding out her empty glass to him.

"Sure thing," he says and takes it while shooting her a smile.

"What'd she want?" Angela asks as he leaves the room and makes his way towards the kitchen.

"Me," he tells her, feeling a ridiculous swell of pride as he said it. "She wanted me."


	33. Chapter 33

**Internet access has returned to me. I'll update again tomorrow. Let me know what you think, please!**

"I want them fresh, not canned," Brennan directs Booth as he sits on the bed next to her, writing a shopping list of the foods she wanted. She had proclaimed that if she continued eating take-out on such a regular basis that it would begin to wreak havoc on her body. So she called on Booth to help her out while Angela was at work one day.

Booth had taken to spending a lot of time at Angela's, more time than Angela practically. The first couple days Brennan had been much more stubborn about it, after all, Angela was staying home with her and due to her medicine she spent a lot of time sleeping. Ergo, his presence was unnecessary. After a while though she stopped saying anything, just knew he was there and seemed to accept it. The couch was killing his already sore back, but he slept there every night anyway, not letting on to her that he was in as much pain as he was.

"How many?" he asks, pen poised to write the number next to the word.

"Three," she says and watches as he writes it down. She holds her hand out and he passes the list to her, her eyes scan across the page looking for mistakes. He had gotten it all correct. "Thank you, Booth."

"Sure thing, Bones. I'll go after Angela gets home," he informs her, unwilling to leave her alone even if it was just for a short while. He looks down at his watch and notes the time. "You need to take your medication soon."

"No," she denies, giving him a look that showed just how wrong she thought he was. "I took them last at one, so I do not need to take any more until five."

"Nope," he says and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a single sheet of notebook paper and unfolding it. "Right here it says that you last took three of the medications at twelve and the other two at one thirty."

"You're writing down each time I take medicine?" she asks, impressed with his organisation. She snatches the paper from his hand and reads it over. She sees he has written the name of each medication, the frequency it needs to be taken, and the amount to give her, at the top of the page.

"Just wanted to stay on top of it," he says and snatches the paper back from her hands. "I'm starved," he tells her and stands up, stretching out his limbs as far as he could. "You hungry?"

"Booth..." she begins to say, wanting to address his actions further but deciding differently. "Sure, I'll take something small."

"Sure thing, Bones," he says and disappears from the room. Brennan watches the difference in his step, his stance when he stands, all of it is slightly shifted, not how he usually does so. His back was hurt, and she didn't care for him to be getting further injured because he was too damn stubborn to just leave. Angela had told her that she needed to stop fighting him so much. This wasn't about what Brennan needed or wanted, this was about Booth. And apparently, or at least so Angela had told her, he really needed to be around her at the moment. Brennan found the accusation to be ridiculous but as Angela further explained that he felt a need to protect her and help her, well the more and more Angela talked about things such as that, the more she believed that it very well could be how Booth felt. Not that she could really know, hardly even guess for that matter. It was all Sweets' territory. So she had no choice but to just go with Angela on this one. Not to mention, she rather liked having him around.

Booth looked through Angela's fridge, trying to find something to eat for both him and Brennan. It only took a minute for him to realise why she had asked him to go shopping. Angela didn't have much in house when it came to food. Some Greek yoghurt, some expensive, girl-y liquor, a few crackers and bread. She'd said before that she packs a lunch but Booth was really curious as to what there was to pack lunch wise. He settled on reheated take-out for himself and crackers and yoghurt for Brennan. She liked foreign stuff after all, right?

Booth was really beginning to wonder more and more as the days went on as to just where he stood with her. She seemed to be treating him close to normal, but sometimes it seemed faked or forced, whereas other times she didn't bother with the charade at all and was just openly angry as she had been before. She wouldn't open up to him in the slightest, he could tell just how guarded she was. About pretty much anything. She wouldn't even tell him if anything was hurting her, she'd ask Angela to come and give her an extra pain pill. She tried to be as independent as she could with him, tried to not show when she was tired. It was frustrating but at the same time he was not about to push her. He knew better than to do that. He was simply grateful that right now she was letting him stay there at all. Later on they could get into the more complicated things.

"Here, Bones. This is all there really was," Booth tells her as he hands her the food and a spoon, taking his spot back next to her on the bed.

"Thanks," she mumbles to him and takes the food, taking her usual slow, small bites. They stay quiet as they eat, there were a lot of silences between them these days. Sometimes it was comfortable and sometimes it was filled with tension, like both of them had something to say but neither would do it. Now was a comfortable time, just two friends relaxing and eating. Or at least so they could tell themselves.

"So," he says suddenly, a thought passing through his mind. "When can I expect to see your next novel?"

She sends him her usual look that she does when she just knows he is asking her some ridiculous question. "When it comes out, just like always."

"Ah, c'mon, Bones. Just a little preview?" He pokes her in the shoulder with the bottom end of his fork and shoots her a smile. She keeps her annoyed face on, but he sees this light in her eyes that lets him know she isn't actually all that bothered by him.

"Have I ever let you have a preview before?" she asks him with a patronising tone, raising her eyebrows slightly as she awaited a response.

"But I have brought you this delicious yoghurt from Angela's refrigerator. The least you could do is let me read a chapter. Give me synopsis, anything really." He watches a small smile show on her face, but she bit it back after a few moments, moments that were much too short to him.

"To be honest," she starts out with and he is taken by surprise with her now serious tone. "I haven't been able to write much in a few weeks." If Booth thought he was surprised by her tone, he must have gone into shock from the words that followed. That was the sort of thing Brennan shared with him pre-disappearance/abandonment. Post disappearance/abandonment had been all about trivial facts the weather. So now, now he didn't even know how to respond. He was the kind of guy who always knew the right thing to say too.

He wanted to apologise, that was his first instinct. However, he knew that it wasn't something she would appreciate. Then it would mean acknowledging weakness and, most of all, weakness to him about him. "You'll figure it out," he says simply and gives her a reassuring smile.

"Yes, I will," she informs him simply, her humble attitude non-existent as per usual.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Yes?" she asks, turning her head to meet his eyes. They were troubled, heavy, Booth wasn't as Booth-y these past few days.

"I know you're still mad at me and that you probably hate my guts, but-"

"I don't hate your guts, Booth. I just...This has all been very difficult for me emotionally, and I haven't had...well, my usual confident was the one who had hurt me this time, so I need I had no one to confide in about my feelings which simply left me confused. Since, well, we all know how well I handle feelings." She stares down at the sheets, ashamed of her weaknesses and dependence on him. She used to be comfortable when it came to displaying a certain amount of weakness to him, used to feel like she could open up to him. Now was different though. Everything was different when it came to the two of them.

"I'm sorry, and I know I've said it before and I know it doesn't make a difference but, Bones. I'm sorry." His eyes search for hers, his head ducking down and peering up into them, watching a fraction of smile grow across her face.

"I'm...sorry you have had to go through this experience as well," she tells him and tries to hold her head high again. "Because, although I may not comprehend your thought process or condone your actions, I still...I still understand you, and I know you're still Booth." He nods his head in agreement, taking her hand in his own, something he had begun doing rather frequently. "Booth would never betray me, right?" she questions him, her voice cracking on the last word. She was close to tears, the sadness piercing his heart.

"Never," he promises, and he takes a chance, leaning over and gently kissing her.


	34. Chapter 34

**Sorry that this is a day later than I said it would be and also that it really is not the best. I had a hard time writing it and a very limited time to do so, so I hope it is not too terrible. Let me know what you think please.**

It lasted three whole seconds. Three glorious, tantalizing seconds. Then, just as soon as it had begun, it ended. He had initiated it, it was his lips that crashed on hers, and it was her lips that pulled away from his. He was in a daze for a moment before he saw her face, until he saw the horror and the confusion and this heart-wrenching sadness. That was all it took to break him out of his trance. "Bones," is all he can say at first, trying to gauge her reaction, see what she was going to do. He was waiting for the anger, for the blow up. He was anticipating the logical words and the claiming of her being tired. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to..." he fades off, still lost in that moment they had before, still finding his mind lingering there. Brennan remained uncharacteristically quiet. "I think sleeping on that couch is affecting my brain more than my back."

"Anthropologically speaking the only way sleeping on a couch could effect one's mental state could be the dependability on a specific individual and lacking the power and independence to care for one's self. Which, to alpha-males, can be detrimental," she lectures him, and he was right about one thing. She was falling back on to logic. Her lighting fast brain wasn't able to figure out the stuff before, not the way she wanted it to, so she went with what she could process.

"Bones..."

"I need to sleep, Booth. The pain medication causes me to be extremely tired." He knew her like the back of his hand, he knew her much better than that actually. Brennan wasn't about to face this, he knew that the second he saw her face after his stupid, stupid mistake. Which raised the question as to how he managed to let it happen in the first place.

"Okay," he says and gets up from his spot next to her, leaving her to sleep or, what she was much more likely to do, which was just over-analyse every detail. "I didn't mean for-"

"Let's just forget it, Booth," she asks him and then lays down on the pillows, closing her eyes as though she was so exhausted she was not capable of keeping them open any longer. When in all actuality she was wide awake now, or at least her mind was.

"Right," he says and leaves the room, making sure that the door wasn't shut all the way so he could hear her if she needed him for something. He fell back against the couch, overcome with frustration for his mindless actions. They had finally returned to a point of semi-normalcy between them. So what does he do? He goes out and ruins it all, everything they had rebuilt, everything he was joyous over having back. It was stupid. That pretty much summed it up.

Meanwhile, Brennan herself simply did not know what to make of the situation. It all happened so suddenly, one second they were talking about shopping lists and she was finally opening her heart up to him a bit, just like she always used to, and the next she was ready to play tongue twister with him. She didn't even know what gave him the idea! She'd been pretty much horrible to him since he had returned, not to say he didn't deserve it somewhat, but why would he do something like _that_. It wasn't even a gesture that could be left to interpretation. It wasn't hand holding or even a kiss to the cheek. They were not French, they did not go by a different social code, they lived in America and in their culture a kiss meant more than partners, more than friends, more than what they were supposed to be. She wasn't ready for more.

Her body felt exhausted, her mind was moving faster than a mile a minute though. This right here, this very feeling that she was experiencing, this is why she hated being confined so much. How could someone just expect her to lay there when she needed some sort of blissful distraction. How could she compartmentalise when she did not have anything else focus on? The only thing she could think of was moments before. She didn't want to think about. They were supposed to just forget it. She needed to just forget it.

It may be detrimental to their relationship, and she most likely just broke his heart, but that doesn't mean she can just up and change their relationship. It was too much, especially right now. Especially considering the still delicate stage their relationship was in. She still didn't know just how much she'd be able to forgive him.

Brennan wanted to. She wanted to forgive him and trust him and go back to how they were. She wanted to just rewind this whole experience in a way. Go back to before where she didn't question him, just trusted him, had this inexplicable faith in him even. It was those foolish beliefs of hers that got her so hurt. Perhaps it was better now, maybe it was a good thing that she received a reminder on just how flimsy and fragile all relationships are, including the one she had with Booth. Especially the one she had with Booth.

Brennan was grateful for the drugs right now, because they began to make her mind hazy and her eyes heavy. They slipped shut and her mind slipped away as she drifted in a restless sleep.

"I screwed up," Booth says as soon as Cam answers her phone.

"What happened now, Seeley?" she asks him and he knows immediately that he made exactly the right choice by calling her. Some would find it strange that he was calling an old romantic interest for help in this sort of situation, but in reality they had always been friends more than they had been anything else. Nothing changed that.

"I was an idiot," Seeley says and lets out a sigh of frustration, laying his head on his free hand and continuing on in a whispered tone. He thought that Brennan was sleeping, but he neither wanted her to hear nor to wake her. "I kissed her, Camille! I freaking kissed her!"

"I take it Dr. Brennan did not react well?" she asks.

"Good assumption. I don't even know what I was thinking."

"I have a feeling you weren't thinking very much when you didn't," she reminds him.

"Of course I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't have done anything that dumb had I been thinking."

"It'll work out," she reassures him, or trying to at least.

"Yeah, because our friendship was so steady before I went and kissed her," he answers sarcastically. The annoyance at himself being pushed upon her out of reflex.

"Don't worry, big guy. It'll work out."

"Easy for you to say," he says and hears the key being turned into the lock, glancing at the clock to see it was after five already. "I have to go, Cam. Angela's home."

"Good luck," she tells him and he mutters thanks before flipping the phone shut.

Booth just mumbles about going to get Brennan's groceries before slipping out the front door, tired, frustrated and completely lost in what to do.


	35. Chapter 35

**So sorry over how short this is! I am trying hard to stick with regular updates while on vacation but until I get home I am afraid they may be a bit more on the short side. Forgive me!**

"What do you mean you kissed?" Angela exclaimed as soon as the words had come from Brennan's mouth. Angela had appeared in her room and asked what was going on with Booth pretty much as soon as she had gotten home. Temperance told her the truth in dire need of what Angela would deem as "girl talk."

"I don't believe there is much of a hidden meaning to that," Brennan replies, trying to see how Angela could not understand something so clear cut as the two of them kissing.

"Who kissed who?" She blurts out before Brennan has finished saying her original comment.

"He kissed me," she says and when seeing the excitement in her friend's eyes knows that she will be letting her down over this matter.

"Aww, was it great? Was there tongue?" Her voice becomes hushed and the tone of enthusiasm causes her to sound more like a twelve year old than her actual age.

"No, Angela, it is the essentially the opposite of great!" Brennan proclaims and looks to see her friend raising her eyebrows at her.

"The opposite of great?" she questions incredulously. "Sweetie, the two of you have been dancing around your undying love for one another for at least four years now. This is the epitome of great!"

"I pulled away from him," she admits plainly. Not bothering with emotion, not even feeling the emotion at this point. "I don't want him to kiss me." Angela raises her eyebrows again and tilts her head and Brennan is aware of exactly what the look means. "Okay, perhaps under different circumstances I would not mind. But he is Booth."

"Exactly!" she yells again, getting up from her spot on the bed and pacing in front of Brennan. "This is the man who takes bullets for you and finds you when your buried alive. This is the guy who would walk all the way around the world, even over the oceans, just to make you smile. This is the guy who even you admit to loving and needing, the one that even you act human around and allow yourself to be emotional with. This is _your_ guy, Brennan. Don't you get it? He's all yours. All he wants from you, is you!"

Brennan tries to wrap her head around Angela's tirade of an explanation. She had her own logic for denying a romantic relationship with Booth, one that far surpassed the possibilities of what said relationship could bring. She knew what she needed, and it wasn't Booth in that way. "If anything I need to get farther from him, not closer."

"Are you crazy?" Angela asks, once again loudly, before Brennan can carry on any longer.

"No..." she answers slowly, making sure Angela herself had not lost her mind a bit. "You saw what happened when he left. I can't be that close to someone, and starting a relationship with such strong emotional ties...That's definitely closer than I already am."

"Sweetie, I told you before, if you never let anyone in, nothing and no one will ever touch you. Don't you want to feel what love is like? Don't you want to be just deliriously happy? Don't you want someone who you can rely on when you need to and who will always be there at the end of the day. No matter what. Do you really think your life has any significant meaning if you don't get to experience that?" she stares at Temperance, holding her gaze with her own. "How can you live without knowing what it's like?"

"Because," Brennan says, her heart tearing at Angela's words. It was exactly what she wanted to know, but a reality that would never and could never come true for her. "If I never experience it, I'll never be able to miss it."


	36. Chapter 36

**Thanks to those of you who actually bothered to review to the six hundred word mess of last chapter. This one is longer, but I am afraid it is not going in the direction we want it to. Hang in there two or three more chapters and until then encourage me to keep going with this. It's still a bit short and quite a few hours late, but it's long enough and still the same day so I call it a success.**

* * *

Today was the day, the day a semblance of her freedom was finally returned to her. She rode in the front seat, Booth driving beside her and Angela in the back, the three of them riding in an uncomfortable silence. She knew crutches would not be the easiest thing, her arms were still sore and using crutches demanded a constant, tiring use of her arms. They were going to be what carried her for the most part from here on out. No more being lifted from bed to wheelchair, no more being pushed around by someone whilst being helpless to do what she wanted. She would finally regain a bit of what she needed. It still wasn't the same amount of independence she was used to but it was certainly better than none.

"Here we are, Bones," Booth says as he pulls into a nearby parking spot and shuts off the car. Things had stayed filled with tension between the two of them ever since their encounter a few days ago. They both tried hard at pretending nothing had happened, but it failed miserably. "How you feeling?"

"Ready to no longer rely on you to carry me from place to place," she answers truthfully. He would understand that. She was so glad to be returning home soon, back to her own apartment with her own food and her own bed. And then soon after came work. Work was something she missed dearly. Writing was simply not working for her the past week. She had managed to type out a total of two paragraphs and it was frustrating her to no end. More so, it was frustrating her publisher who was beginning to pester her on getting a rough draft.

"You're going to have to wait just a little while longer on that one," he says as he gets out from his side and goes over to hers, lifting her gently into his arms and lowering her into the chair that Angela had set up. He takes controls and directs her towards the entrance doors of the hospital.

"You sure you don't want to spend just one more night at my place?" Angela offers yet again as the wander through the hospital corridors and wait for an elevator to arrive.

"I appreciate the offer, Ange, but really. I'll be fine," Brennan deflects for the fourth time. She was really glad to have such a great friend, but she was past ready to be on her own. She'd had more than enough of all this coddling. They walk into the waiting room and Booth sets her by an empty chair. "Over there," she tells him and he doesn't ask any questions before doing just as she asks and moving her to where she wanted to be. "Uh, thanks," she says surprised. The other two times that she had said anything about wanting to go anywhere else Angela had blatantly ignored her. It was nice to have Booth do just as she wanted without even requesting so much as an explanation.

"Sure thing, I'll be back in a minute."

Angela takes a seat next to her and Brennan's anticipation climaxes as they sit and wait. She hated this aspect of going to the doctor's. Stick her with needles, push on things and ask if it hurts, knock her out with drugs, anything was better than having to sit in a waiting room and literally do nothing but wait.

"Here's some paperwork they want you to fill out," Booth says and passes her the clipboard and pen. Perhaps there was one thing worse. "You want me to do it?" he offers as he takes in her worn down appearance. She'd had her pain meds not long before they came and he could tell she was worn out just from the process of getting here. She nodded her head and he set to work on it.

"You know, I really don't feel like changing my sheets tonight and some of your organic apples are still at the house so-"

"Stop," Brennan says, shooting her a look that could send a grown man into fear despite the fact that she was currently in a wheelchair. "I have already declined your offer several times and no matter how much you may bring it up, I am afraid that will not be changing."

"Sorry," she mutters and Brennan feels bad for a moment but gets over it quickly. She was annoyed by everything these past couple days, something that was fairly obvious, and she had made herself plenty clear more than once. Angela was pushing her zippers or something.

"Easy there," Booth whispers to her and places a hand on her knee. She doesn't know what to take from it or what it means. Before it was a reassuring touch and not it could hold so much more meaning. What was even worse was that she did not even know what she wanted to take from it. She was ready to go home and sleep though, that much she knew.

"Temperance Brennan," a nurse says and Booth wheels Brennan back, Angela staying behind and flipping through a home decorating magazine.

"How are we today, Temperance?" Her doctor asks as he enters the room with a smile on his face.

"I am fine. As for you, I cannot be expected to know considering you have yet to tell me and I very poorly read people." He gives a light chuckle and begins with a few things that would be included along with having her stitches off. She was having X-rays today as well.

"Ready to get out of this wheelchair?" he questions with a smile and begins pulling a few instruments from a sterile package.

"I've been ready since I first sat down in the thing."

"Easy," Booth says as she stumbles a bit on her way into the elevator to lead her to her apartment's floor. "Is your arm still sore?"

"Yes," she answers him simply, a bit disgruntled that he had been so persistent as to follow her up to her apartment. She just wanted to be alone.

"Can we-Could we talk about what happened?" he asks while following her to her front door, pulling her keys from his pocket and handing them to her.

"No," she replies blankly again.

"Just, let me explain myself on what happened," he asks and she stays quiet for a moment so he jumps at the chance to talk more. "I swear, I didn't mean to freak you out."

"It doesn't matter," she tells him and his eyebrows crinkle in concern as to where she was going with this. "None of it matters."

"What do you-"

"I mean that thins have changed and I don't-I don't know how they're going to get back to normal. Or if they ever can," she answers before he can even ask, suddenly desperate to just get away from him.

"Just let me talk," he begs, his hand reaching to grab hers but she pulls it away. "I thought we were working through this. What happened? Is this all because of what I did. Bones, just forget that. It doesn't matter."

"What does matter any more?" she asks him and shakes her head, trying to clear from the foggy haze of exhaustion that covered it. "I'll talk to you later," she says and turn to enter her apartment, grateful to just lay all of her weight on to her crutches.

"C'mon, Bones," he pleads her, his eyes displaying absolute begging towards her. They shone with tears, an FBI sniper trained army man crying for her, because of her. "Please, just-just listen to me."

"I can't," she denies him plainly, her own heart breaking as she spoke the words. She wanted to, so desperately wanted to, but what she said was entirely true. She couldn't. She simply couldn't. "I'm sorry, Booth, but I can't."

"Bones," he chokes out, the small word laden with absolute pain and torture. She was hurting him, and perhaps, maybe just maybe, it was the way of which he had hurt her. Was she a cruel person for having that not break her heart like it should? How despicable of a woman could she be if she was causing him to feel tremendous pain and did not even care to help, was encouraging it, _causing_ it.

"I don't think I can forgive you, Booth," she says plainly, switching over to the real problem, the one that was ruling a lot of her thoughts ever since he had left in the first place. Her logical and clinical voice finding itself again in the process. She spoke with clarity and honesty. The emotions would not rule her, that is what caused her to be in this position in the first place.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he tells her in all honesty. He just wanted to talk to her and he wanted to wrap her small and fragile body in his arms and tell her how sorry he was. Booth wanted to make it right.

"I cannot trust you, Booth. Never again." It was true. She had trusted him with her life and her heart, her broken battered and tortured heart, for years, and he had broken her further. He _knew_. More than anyone else he knew. "You betrayed me," she whispers quietly, shutting the door in his face. Falling back against it once it was shut as her tears began to cascade down. Held back for much too long as she allows them to finally have their escape. Misery consuming her in that irrational moment, pulling her to the darkest drenches of the bottom of it. All of sudden that alone time she craved became a deep loneliness that left her broken.


	37. Chapter 37

**Oops, this is two days late, isn't it? I had the hardest time writing it, but today I sat down and spent the afternoon working on it. I do hope you think it is okay as this is the end. It was a little unexpected but at the same time it just fit. This story is a big accomplishment for me as I like to think I managed to update properly and am now able to proudly put a complete sign next to it. I have loved writing it, even though it could be a real pain some days. It has been a very rewarding process the whole way through, and I thank all of you who have stuck by me throughout it. Which reminds me, apologies for not replying to your reviews last chapter but I did have a lot of fun reading your reactions and thoughts on the characters! Some of you have been so consistent and helpful while this has been written and I really hope you know how much I appreciate it no matter how simple it may be. Thanks for sticking with me through this and I hope the ending is somewhat satisfactory to you. Thank you all, have a nice day.**

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"This one is all you, Brennan," Angela says the next day. Brennan had told her what happened, or at least what happened through her eyes and Angela was rather unsympathetic this time around. Not that Brennan could blame her. "I can't make these choices for you and if you want him away from you...Well, that is your prerogative."

"You think I am wrong," Brennan assess on her own. It was not as though Angela worked on being secretive of what she thought.

"I think you're making a mistake, sweetie. But in the end that's up to you to decide."

Brennan sighs as she lays her head back on the couch. The two of them were at Brennan's apartment, it was past midnight by this time and Brennan was two hours past the time she needed to take her medication. She was hurting bad at this point and fatigue was beginning to set in. She refused to give in though. "You think I should trust Booth and just...go with this?" she asks, her "this" covering a wide spectrum of possibilities.

"No," Angela corrects automatically. "I'm saying to give him a chance. To just try and let him love you like he so desperately wants to do, and allow yourself to see just what the possibilities are. You're missing out on something amazing. I don't want to let you do that."

"How do I know if it's the right choice?" Brennan asks, her mind going through pros and cons, analysing just what this situation could lead to, what it all means.

"Oh, sweetie, we all want to know what that is when it comes to matter of the heart," Angela tells her truthfully, that same thought haunted so many people, herself included. Brennan was so far behind though that she didn't know there never was a way to know. It was all a guessing game, one of chances and hopes. It was based on love and this insane trust system that didn't make much sense. In the end, odds were you would get your heart smashed or you would break the heart of another. "You just have to take a chance and...jump." Brennan's eyebrows furrow together and Angela can see the confusion written across her face. "Figuratively speaking, that is."

"So, you're saying I have to forget everything I know about proof, and just fall into this abyss of chances and questions?"

"Crazy thing, isn't it?"

That next day was when she had finally had enough and just picked up her phone, dialling that number that she had forbidden herself from calling ever again just a few weeks ago. There were awkward greeting of "His" and "How are you doings?" and there was a long silence when neither of them said anything, just allowing the silence to sit between them for what felt like an hour but was more likely ten seconds. She had barely gotten out her "Will you come over?" before he had answered with his eager "I'll be there in a minute." She told him okay and he said bye. Then it was quiet again and she didn't know what she was doing any more. Since when in hell did she figuratively jump like this?

He knocks at the door and she yells "Come in!" since she didn't feel like fumbling with the crutches to do something that he could easily do on his own. He rushes in and she isn't the least bit surprised with how panicked/anxious he looked. After all, she had been pushing him away for well over two weeks now. This was a bit sudden, no doubt.

"Hey," he says again, just like he had on the phone and she nods her head at him. He takes in the sight before him. She looked tired, to say the least, and her leg was propped up on the coffee table with some pillows messily under it, one near falling out. Her hair is far from it's usual tame appearance and her face was free from any sort of make up, but a few bruises still remained on it. She was still in her pyjamas and her laptop was next to her, closed and seemingly forgotten. "How you doing there, Bones?" he asks her and tries to grasp a bit normalcy as he jumps into auto-pilot, doing what needed to be done to make her more comfortable.

He walks over and rearranges the pillows in a neater manner. Next was her laptop which he held up in question. "The battery died," she tells him plainly and he moves the power cord out there and plugs it in next to her. Booth grabs a blanket off the back of the couch and spreads it over her legs, folding it over at her waist so she could cover herself more if she wanted. He went to her bathroom and returned with a hair brush, gently moving it through her hair to remove the tangles, his fingers dancing on her neck every minute or so.

She stays quiet as he carries on more. Filling her cup of water, setting her next pain medicine next to her and finally going to the kitchen to look through the cupboards to find something for her to eat. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asks, not understanding how he could keep doing this time and time again when she continued to push him away and be such a horrible friend. Why would he ever still want to be near her? "After all I've done to you...Why are you still here?"

"I want to be," he answers plainly.

"That doesn't seem logical," she tells him as her mind processes through as much of a the mess that these past couple months had been as she could. "You should hate by this point."

"I could never hate you," he tells her honestly.

"But you should, that's my point. You should leave me again," she tells him as though it was obvious that that should have been his immediate course of action after all of this.

"Bones," he says, approaching her slowly and smiling gently at her. "You have to trust me."

"How-how can I do that after you already left me?" she questions, her voice breaking as she did so. He was her weak spot, she didn't have any armor on when it came to him. She wanted to have it on though, to prepare herself for war. Yet she could not do that, not now. She was too far gone.

"I know it's hard and I'm not asking you to do it right now. Just...work at it," he tells her as he takes a seat next to her and places his hand over hers. Her eyes fill with tears and immediately he feels his alpha-male side take over, a desire to wrap her in his arms filling him up.

"You don't understand," she denies, shaking her head vehemently at him, her hair swaying back and forth and a few tears falling down. "You can't understand."

"Explain it to me," he says, still gentle, still loving. "Help me to understand, Temperance."

"I've been left behind before, Booth. More than once." He nods his head, signifying he understood but staying silent so she could continue. "By my parents, Russ, friends, boyfriends, everyone really." She ducks her head down, drawing a shaky breath in and then lifting her eyes to meet his. "You knew this."

"Yes," he says, interrupting nothing but the silence that had lingered for a minute. "I did."

"You understood more than anyone else ever had how much it hurt me. You watched-you saw just how much it effected me and still...you still were able to leave me. And I understand that there were more factors into this than just myself, and I understand that you were trying to protect me and went to the great lengths of sacrificing yourself for that very matter. But Booth, I didn't want to be protected."

"I know, you're able to take care of yourself. I was being an alpha-male, blah blah blah. Bones, you have to-"

"No, Booth, I didn't want to be protected because all I wanted was you. I just, I wanted you. That entire time you were gone, all I could think was how Booth could make me feel better and that Booth would know just the right thing to say or Booth would talk it out with me, but you weren't here! You were everything I needed and you-you weren't here."

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. You must know by now how much I regret what happened, and I never-I hate that I was the one to have ever hurt you like that." Now he was the one near tears and Brennan herself could see the turmoil that sat within them. They seemed to be at an impasse ever since he had come back. They could not go neither forward or back, both needing the same thing that seemed so unattainable.

"I still need you," she admits quietly, both to him and herself. "I still need you in my life and I can't imagine what I would do if you were gone again. That-it scares me so much. I'm petrified at the very thought. You have so much control over me."

"Oh, Bones," he says and finally follows through on the action he had wanted to pursue for so long now, he reaches over and pulls her close to him. She is the one who takes the initiative and gently moves herself on top of him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as her face buried into his chest. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt. "After what I did to you I can't just tell you that I would never use that control to hurt you, can I?"

She doesn't pull away as he talks, stays close to him, her head right against his heart beat. She smiled a little at how cliché the idea was. "You could, but I do not think I could believe you right now.

"Well, Bones, I promise that no matter what happens from here on out, I will never, ever intentionally hurt you. I'll make a mistake from time to time, and I will probably end up saying something without meaning it, but I swear to put my effort into never taking this control I have and hurting you with it."

"I still don't know how much I can trust you," she tells him honestly, ashamed a bit at the fact.

"It's a work in progress," he says and she finally lifts her head to smile at him. "I'm not asking for trust, not right now. Just give me the chance to prove to you what I am saying," he says, and watches her head nod slightly, her forehead moves to rest against his and they are so close he can feel her breath cover across his face. He smiles at her and she gives him one back, one that lights up her entire face. It was the most genuine smile he had seen in so long. It was one he had missed so much ever since he had left her. "Let me give you your evidence." And he kisses her, sweet and loving as his hands reach up to her face and cradles it gently. When he pulls away he sees that the same thousand watt smile has remained on her face.

"I think this is a great place to start," she says and allows her lips to fall against his again, moving together and creating a new beginning. "You and me, together," her face brightens even more at the words.

"What?" he asks, with his own smile.

"Nothing, it just sounds nice."

Forgiveness was hard. Trust was harder. But love, love conquered all.


End file.
